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UNITED STATES OF AMEEMA. 



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THE 

BEAUTIES 



/// ' 



FRENCH HISTORY. 




BY THE AUTH(m i# THE BEAUTIES OF ENGLISH HISTORT 
i/AMERICAN HISTORY, &c 

^ - /^ I 

u -^ 



NEW YORK: 

ALEXAKi)ER V. BLAKE. 

1845. 



Entered, according to Act of Coni76&&, tn ihe j(Ai 1&&C« ij 

ALEXANDER V. BI.AKE, 

1^ the Clerk's Office of the District Court nfitiK I'liited States Cm itiis 
Eastern District of New York. 



•TEllKUTVrED ttV C. W. MCRRAV AND CO., 






CONTEiNTS, 



Pag« 
Ancient Gaul, « • • ,9 

C'lovis, ..... 13 

Thierry, Cloilmir, Childibert, and Clotaire, . l^ 
Cariherl, Gontraii, Sigeberl, and Chilperic, 20 

Clotaire the Second, . . . .22 

J)iagoberl and Aribert, ... 22 

Sigebert the Second and Clovis the Second, . 23 
Pepin the Short, .... 27 

Charles and Carloman, • . .28 

Louis the First, .... 34 

Charles the Second, . . . .33 

Louis the Second, Louis the Third, Carloman, 

and Charles the 'I'hird, . . .36 

'Eudes or Odo, Charles the Simple, Raoul, Louis 
the Fourth, Lothaire tlie Second, and Louis 
the Fifth, .... 38 

iTngh Capet, . . . . , 39 

l^obert, . . ... . 49 

Henry the First, • . . ,41 

iPhitip the First, .... 43 

(3) 



s? 



CONTENTS. 



Louis the Sixth, 
Louis the Seventh, 
Philip the Second, 
Louis the Eighth, 
Louis the Ninth 
Philip the Third, 
Philip the Fourth, 
Philip the Fifth, 
Charles the Fourth, 
Philip the Sixth, 
John the Second, 
Charles the Fifth, i 
Charles the Sixth, 
Charles the Seventh, 
Louis the eleventh,. 
Charles the Eighth, 
Louis the Twelfth, 
Francis the First, 
Henry the Second, 
Francis the Second, 
Charles the Ninth, 
Henry the Third,. 
Henry the Fourth, 
Louis the Thirteenth, 
Louis the Fourteenth, 
Louis the Fifteenth, 
Louis the Sixteenth^ 






CONTENTS. 



ANECDOTES OF NAPOLEON. 



Page 
The Battle of Lodi, . . . 230 

Napoleons presence of mind at the Bridge 

of Lodi, ... .231 

The Bridge of Areola, . . .232 

The Pioneer, . . 233 

Milan, ..... 234 

The sleeping Sentinel, . . . 235 

Le Petit Corporal, .... 237 
The Restorer of the city of Lyons, . 237 

The Battle of Marengo, . . . 239 

Napoleon wounded in Italy and other places, 240 
His generosity to the veteran general Wurmser, 242 
Mount St. Bernard, . . . 244 

His employment of time, . . . 245 

His proclamation before landing in Egypt, 245 

Disembarkation of the French troops in Egypt, 247 
Napoleons alarm on his arrival in Alexandria, 248 
Gaiety of the French soldiery, . . 249 

Turkish humanity towards the French army 

in Egypt, .... 250 

Mia return from Elgypt, . ,> . 252 



PREFACE, 



The Beauties of History consist, of course, in a 
display of its most illustrious characters and its most 
instructive events. 

The object of the present volume is to afford, ac- 
companied by historical data, as correct an idea as 
could be preserved within a space necessarily limited, 
of the most remarkable circumstances that have taken 
place, and the most extraordinary men who have 
flourished in the kingdom of France, from the earliest 
period of its history to the times in which we live, 

And, it is presumed, that, while contributing to 
their amusement, especial care has been taken to add 
to the information of the young. 

" History is philosophy teaching by example ;" and 
the following pages may supply many an excellent 

(7) 



^111 PREFACE. 

lesson to those who desire that, while amused, they 
should also be improved; thai Pleasure should be at 
all times the handmaid of Knowledge, and oid; wel- 
<;ome when she visits in company wiih her more 
valuable associate. 



vs>.. 



BEAUTIES 



OP 



FRENCH HISTORY. 



ANCIENT GAUL. 

Of the earliest boundaries of ancient Gaul, and 
the condition of its inhabitants, we have no satisfac- 
tory accounts. But it is probable that, from the in- 
ternal struggles in which the latter were perpetually 
involved, its limits were continually changing; and 
ilt is certain that the aborigines were an enterprising 
and warlike people, frequently emigrating in search 
of new settlements, which they obtained and defend- 
ed by their swords ; and that they became at length so 
formidable, as to turn their arms even against Rome^ 
which they took, and destroyed by fire. 

In time, however, their military spirit was subdued ; 
their neighbours, on all sides, becoming also nume- 
rous and brave, they were confined to what was more 
properly their own dominion, and discord and hog- 

9 



10 BEAUTIES OP 

tilities at home now took tlie place of conquests 
abroad ; until, divided against themselves, the con- 
querors were, in their turn, the conqiie ed, and yield- 
ed to victorious Rome. Vanquished by the legions 
of Julius Caesar, Gaul sunk into a tiibulary province 
of the imperial city. 

But when the Roman empire, whicli had stretched 
its enormous arms over tlie three quarters of the 
globe, fell under the weight of its eagerly gathered 
burdens, and f om being the mistress o\^ the world, 
became the despised prey of successive hordes of 
northern barbarians, Gaul — ."sluggish and paraly/ed — 
afforded an easy conquest to tlie Visigoths, who sub- 
sequently gave way before the braver and more hardy 
Franks. 

The native GauM are represented as tall and fair; 
their hair inclining to red; their eyes bhie, sharp, aiul 
fierce; and their temper irriial>Ie and hauglny. They 
are said to have been so grave at an early period of 
their history, that when a Grecian dancer appearetf 
in the theatre to show his art, they went out, calling 
it a species of insanity. The women are described 
as handsome, rather attentive to dress, and remarka- 
bly neat and clean in their persons. The heads of 
their slaves were shaved ; and shaven or shorn hair 
became a mark of servitude and degradation ; but 
freemen combed their long hair back\t'ards from their 
brow to the neck, and again raising it upwards and 
forwards, formed it into a tuft at the top of the head. 



FRENCH HISTORY. II 

Men of superior rank shaved their cheeks only, leav- 
ing large whiskers, or monslaches. 

Tlie religion of liie Gauls was that of the darkost; 
and grossest idolatry. Their priests, the drurds, 
were considered the only depositaries of knowledge; 
and tht^y guided and ruled the people with almost 
ahsolnie power. Their persons were held sacred; 
they were universally and implicitly oheyed ; ii was 
llieir exclusive privilege to reward or pumsh, and 
from their sentence there was no appeal. The arch- 
druid, their head, was chosen by the priesthood; bul 
the election to this office was not unfrequently de-, 
cided by arms. The drtiidesses, of whom there were, 
many, rivalled the priests in influence, and surpassed 
them in crime. The chief doctrines of djiiidisn> 
were, tlie immortality and transmigration of souls,, 
and the existence and power of the gods: their prin- 
ciples and tenets were preserved in verses, which 
their disciples committed to memory. They indulged 
in lumian sacrifices to excess, often confining a great 
number of living men and women in enormous images 
formed of woven twigs, which they set on fire, and' 
thus consumed the imhappy victims. After the Ko* 
man conquest, the power of the druids cojisiderably 
decreased; their rites and ceremonies were abolished 
by law, and the deities and worship of Home intro- 
duced into Gaul. 

Christianity, however, made its way among them 
ai r- \Li\ t.viy jcrj.)-j. .-:r.( e A .i hir.K- tn<ic ]'!J»jicle 



12 



BEAUTIES OF 



that the Gospel was preached in Gaul by some of 
the apostles themselves; though the first Christian 
teacher upon record appeared there about the end of 
the second century. Christianity, from this time, 
spread with astonishing rapidity, but the change was 
one of profession merely, not of heart and life ; for the 
priests were so openly profligate, as in the year 314 
to call forth a decree from the council of Aries, for- 
bidding the clergy to perform in the theatres, to ap- 
pear as charioteers in the race, or to bear arms as sol- 
diers. Little could be expected from the people, when 
their Christian pastors were in such a degraded state 
as is demonstrated by these facts. 

The Franks invaded Gaul from the trackless wilds 
and deep forests of Germany, allured thither by the 
prospect of obtaining a more fertile and productive 
land on easy terms. Under their successive kings, 
Pharamond, Clodio, Merovee, and Childeric, they had 
gradually increased in power, until, in the reign of 
Clovis, the grandson of Merovee, and the son of Chil- 
deric, they found themselves strong enough to make 
a successful attempt on their now passive and pros- 
perous neighbours. At this period of its history, the 
Romans possessed but nominal jurisdiction in Gaul ; 
Syagrius, the governor of the province, having as- 
sumed the style and exercised the prerogatives of an 
Independent sovereign. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 13 



CLOVIS, 



THE FIRST KING OF FRANCE. 

Clovis, to whom belongs the honour of founding 
the French monarchy, became king of the Franks in 
481, when his age was but fifteen. In the year 486, 
he crossed the Rhine, at the head of an army, esti- 
mated by some historians at 3000, and by others at 
30,000, fighting men; whose habits were warlike, 
whose business was war, and whose only property 
was spoil. A battle took place near Soissons, the re- 
sidence of the Roman governor, in which he was 
completely routed. The whole country between the 
Rhine and the Loire speedily submitted to the con- 
queror, who relinquished all thought of returning to 
the woods and marshes of Germany, and bestowed 
upon his new kingdom the name of France. It may 
be necessary to observe, that several large districts of 
the country, which are now only French provinces, 
were then separate realms, and had each their own 
monarchs; as, Tourraine, Anjou, Brittany, Thou- 
louse, &c, 

Clovis made the best use of his victory, by gain- 
ing the goodwill of his future subjects, and endea- 
vouring to conciliate the Christian clergy. An anec- 
dote is related of him, which at once exhibits a 
striking feature in his character, and shows the course 
2 



14 BEAUTIES OF 

of policy he licemed it prudent to adopt Among the? 
plunder he had collected was a sacred vessel of greaS 
worth and beauty, which had been taken from the 
church at Kheims. ^Ihe bishop, Remigius, express- 
ing great concern at its loss, the king requested it to 
be included in his share of the booty, which, accord- 
ing to custom, was about to be divided among the 
army by lots, ^rhe soldiers cheerfully consented;, 
but one fellow raised his battle-axe and struck the 
vessel, telling his leader, that he should have no more 
than his just proportion. Clovis checked his wratfe 
at the time ; but a year afterwards, when his autho- 
riiy had become less precarious, at a review of th& 
troops, he det^ignedly remarked, that the arms of this 
soldier were in bad order, and taking his batlle-axe, 
threw it on the ground. As the man was stooping^ 
to pick it up, the king hit him mortally on the head^ 
saying, " Thus you struck the vessel at Soissons." 

At Soissons, Clovis established the seat of his go- 
vernment ; and in the year 493 married Clotilda, the 
niece of Gondebaud, king of Burgundy, by whom 
both her parents had been treacherously murdered. 
She was a Christian, and was, consequently, highfy 
acceptable to the great body of the people, by whom 
ihe Christian religion was professed. Under her in^ 
fluence, the king gradually imbibed the doctrines m 
which she believed; and an opportunity was not lon^ 
wanting to carry this predisposition of the monarcli 
IrAz elle;:l. DuriJ-g a tattie J:..ug:u at Toibiac, oe*' 



FRENCH HISTORY. 15 

tween the Franks and some of their German neigh- 
bours, the former were giving way and in confusion, 
when the king was lieard to exclaim, ^' O God of 
ClotiUIa, if thou wilt grant me this victory, I will 
have no God but thee T' Immediately his army ral- 
lied, and he gained a signal triumph. Clovis kept 
his vow, and was shortly afterwards, with 3000 of 
his followers, baptized by tiie bishop of Uheims with 
great pomp and ceremony. His conversion, however, 
was one of form, rather than spirit, the neophite ap- 
pearing but little acquainted vv'itli the nature of Chris- 
tianity; for soon after his baptism, when the prelate 
was detailing to him the sufferings of the Saviour 
at Jerusalem, with characteristic eagerness, he ex- 
claimed, "Oh! why was 1 not there, with ray Franks, 
to fight for him .^" 

Clovis was brave in action, and skilful in govern- 
ing; but he was cruel and treacherous, seldom slay- 
ing even his own hand, when he considered it expe- 
dient to remove an adversary out of the way; and 
invariably acting upon the principle, 

Thnt thpy should take who hnve the power, 
And they should keep who can. 

Tliere was, nevertheless, a kind of rude justice blend- 
ed even with his worst acts. Having engaged the 
son of the king of Cologne to murder his aged and 
infirm father, he soon after caused the son himself to 
%e put to death ; and upon another occasion, when 



16 BEAUTIES OP 

he had procured the assassination of a dangerous 
rival, by the promise of a large bribe, he gave the 
assassins gilded money instead of gold, observing, it 
was the only recompense murderers deserved. 

The bitterness of religious parties, even at this 
early period, was the cause of much strife and blood- 
shed. Arianism and Catholicism divided the French 
people; and Clovis, under pretence of eradicating the 
former from his own dominions, as well as those of 
his neighbours, waged a destructive and protracted 
war; the only effect of which was, making the op- 
pressed cling more firmly to their faith, and giving 
them more deadly cause of hatred towards their op- 
pressors. 

•Still, the first king of France enjoyed what is 
termed a prosperous reign; overcame every difficulty 
tliat encompassed him; was invested with t]ie dignity 
of a patrician robe and diadem by the Emperor of 
the East (Anastasius, who continued to assume an 
imaginary right over the regions of the West) ; and 
died A.D. 511, in the forty-fifth year of his age and 
the thirtieth of his reign, leaving his dominions, ac- 
cording to the practice of the time, equally divided 
among his four sons, 

THIERRY, CLODOMIR, CHILDEBERT, AND CLOTAIRE; 

The first of whom inherited the kingdom of Metz, or 
Austrasia; the second that of Orleans; the third that 
of Paris ; and the fourth that of Soissons — the eldest 



FRENCH HISTORY. 17 

being twenty-eight, and the youngest twelve years 
of age. The three younger brolliers joined ilieir arms, 
and made an attack on Sigismond, duke of Burgundy, 
whose forces were routed, and himself, after a variety 
^of wanderings and ranch suffering, betrayed to his 
enemies, who cruelly put him to death, together with 
his queen and two sons. From this period, the 
duchy of Burgundy was subject to the power of 
France, and ceased to bean independent sovereignly. 
During the war between the Burgundians and the 
three brothers, one of them, Clodomir, was slain. 
He had three sons who ought to have inherited his 
kingdom of Orleans; but, unhappily, a different fate 
awaited them. They were left under the care of 
their grandmother, the Queen Clotilda, who honoured 
them as their father's representatives, and exerted her- 
self to secure for them his dominions. Mer affec- 
tionate attention to their interests served only to ex- 
cite the jealousy and ambition of their uncles, Chil- 
debert and Clotaire, who had formed the design of 
seizing, and dividing between themselves, the king- 
dom of their nephews; only hesitating as to wbether 
they should put them to death, or, by ordering their 
hair to be cropped, disqualify them, according to an 
established custom, from ever being eligible to reign. 
'The former course was resolved upon. The kings 
rinet at Paris, and immediately sent for the children, 
umder pretence of arranging about their respective 
is^alms ; the two elder of whom set out on their fatal 
2* 



18 BEAUTIES OF 

journey. On arriving in the presence of their un- 
cles, their attendants were dismissed, and a messenger 
despatched to the queen-dowager, to whom he pre- 
sented a naked sword and a pair of scissors, asking 
her which she preferred, the degradation or death of 
her grandsons. In the agitation of her mind, and 
the bitterness of her grief, she answered, " better let 
them die than live unfit to reign." Her words were 
faithfully reported, to the kings \ and the barbarous 
Clotaire no sooner heard them, than he seized the 
eldest boy, threw him on the ground, and plunged a 
dagger in his breast. The younger child screamed 
fearfully, and flew for protection to the arms of his 
other uncle, Childebert, who, more merciful, fell at 
his brother's feet, and with tears besought him to save 
their nephew's life. " Throw him from you," was 
the reply, " or perish with him. Did not the pro- 
posal come from you, and will you now oppose it.'" 
The cowardly Childebert flung the boy from him, and 
he was caught by the reeking knife of the brutal Clo- 
taire. The third nephew had his hair shorn, and was 
placed in a monastery ; and the murderers divided be- 
tween them the kingdom of Orleans. 

Although Thierry, the elder brother, did not stain 
his hands with the blood of his nephews, he sanc- 
tioned their murder by sharing in the spoil •, and, by 
an act of the deepest treachery, proved that he was 
also capable of any crime. He was at war wiih a 
chieftain named Munderic, wdio held possession of a 



FRENCH HISTORY. 19 

fortified town of considerable strength ; but the dread 
of famine induced the besieged to surrender, under 
a solemn pledge from Thierry, that his life, and the 
lives of his folU)\vers, siiould be preserved. Munde- 
ric passed without the walls, and mingled among the 
soldiers of the king, whose artful emissary addressed 
ihem, saying, " Why do you so gaze on Munderic ?" 
This was the signal for his destruction; but Munde- 
ric perceived the treachery in time to strike the trai- 
tor mortally with his lance, exclaiming, " I die; but 
you shall die before me." Then rushing upon the 
soldiers, he slew several; till, at last overcome by 
numbers, he fell, covered with wounds. 

By the deaths of his brothers and their children, 
or the operation of the Salic law, which prevents the 
accession of females to the throne, Clotaire became, 
like his father Clovis, sole king of France. But the 
poisoned clialice was returned to his own lips. 
Chramnes, his favourite son, rebelled against him, 
was defeated, and taken prisoner, with his wife and 
two daughters. They were shut up in the cottage in 
which they had taken refuge, and, by the command 
of his own father, wer« consumed by fire. The 
wi etched king, shocked at the too prompt obe- 
dience of his order, became a prey to the deepest 
grief; and sought,.in vain, relief from the weight of 
a guiltv conscience, by rich presents to the clergy 
and offerings to tlie saints. He lived merciless and 
depraved, and died hated and despised ; affording aa 



20 BEAUTIES OP 

^wful lesson to his successors and to mankind, that 
sated ambition and unlimited power, when ill-ob- 
tained, are the certain paths to that most fearful of all 
miseries, remorse. 

Clotaire, whose death by fever took place in 562, 
also left four sons, 

CARIBERT, GONTRAN, SIGEBERT, AND CHILPERIC ; 

And among these four monarclis the kingdom of 
France was divided ; that of Paris falling to the eld- 
est by lot. Caribert died after a brief reign. Sige- 
bert married Brunechild, the daughter of the king of 
the Visigoths-, and Chilperic had taken a wife, named 
Fredegonde, from the lowest class of his subjects — 
a beautiful, but exceedingly artful and wicked wo- 
man. By the advice of his brother he agreed to put 
her away, and solicited and received the hand of Gal- 
swinda, the sister of Brunechild ; the unhappy lady 
"was, however, treacherously murdered ; and Chilpe- 
ric took back Fredegonde as his queen, although the 
charge of having strangled Galswinda was clearly 
proved against her. This gave rise to a bloody and 
long-protracted war between the brothers; and the 
machinations of the infamous Fredegonde procured 
the murder of Sigebert. She engaged two assassins 
to commit the deed. " Here," said she (givmg them 
two poisoned arrows) " are the only means of deli- 
I'ering your king and coimtry. If you succeed, no 
fieward can be too great for you ; if you die, it will 



FRENCH HISTORY. 21 

be in a patriotic and good cause ; and the reward 
shall be given to your families." They accordingly 
went to Sigebert's camp, demanded an audience on 
pretence of business, and plunged the arrows in his 
breast. The villains met with the summary punish- 
ment their bloody deed deserved, and were toni to 
pieces by his guards. She also caused the assassina- 
tion of one of her husband's sons, after having vainly 
attempted to place him in a situation where a fatal 
epidemic was raging. Mer husband himself, the dupe 
of her schemes, was destined to be another victim to 
her remorseless cruelty. Chilperic having returned 
from hunti.ig, as he alighted from his horse, was 
stabbed twice in the breast by some unseen hand, 
and died unlamented, leaving scarcely a single sub- 
ject willing to give his corpse decent burial. The 
prime mover in all these atrocities, Fredegonde, had 
sought and obtained shelter from Gontran, the sur- 
viving brother of her husband. At his death, a. d. 
593, the power of this wicked woman was augment- 
ed by her influence over her son, who succeeded his 
uncle. Her own life terminated peaceably, except 
for those workings of a guilty conscience which no 
power or greatiiess can stifle. The fate of her rival 
in ambition and in crime was more awful. Brune- 
child, the wife of Sigebert, was arrested and tried for 
the murder of ten kings, including her own sonsf 
She was first exhibited as a spectacle over all the 
camp, and exposed to the insults of the sokhers; 



22 BEAUTIES OJ' 

then, fastened to the tail of a wild horse, she was 
dragged and torn to pieces, and, at last, thrown into 
a hre. The lives of two more utterly cruel and de- 
praved women, perhaps, never sullied the records of 
a kingdom. 

By the death of his fa;her, Chilperic, Clotaire in- 
herited the throne of Soissons; and, on the demise 
of his uncle, Gontran, he ascended the throne of 
France. 

CLOTAIRE THE SECOND 

Was a milder and more peaceable sovereign than 
euher of his predecessors, lie sought to improve 
his kingdom; and bestowed much care and attention 
in faming wiser laws than those by which France 
had heretofore been governed. Under his reign, how- 
ever, the mayors of the palace — a tide given to the 
oldest and most confidential servant of the crown, 
who took the lead in the administration of civil and 
military affairs — gradually obtained almost absolute 
power, and ceased to acknowledge the king's prero- 
gative either to appoint or dismiss them. The ruin 
of the race of Merovingian monarchs was the result. 
Clotaire died in 628, leaving two sons, 

DAGOBERT AND ARIBERT. 

The death of Aribert, which took place about two 
j^ears after his father, left Dagobert in peaceable and 
undisputed possession of the crown of France. The 



FRENCH HISTORY. 1^. 

king having no dcmeslic enemies to contend with^ 
turned liis attention towards the good government of 
nis kingdom, which, under his comparatively wise 
and gentle rule, made much progress in the arts that 
create and distinguish civilized life. At his court, 
Eloy, who had been a goldsmith, rendered himself 
famous by his wealth and ingenuity. He formed a 
chair of solid gold, and a throne of the same meta), 
and wore a belt set with diamonds when he visiteil 
tlie palace. He afterwards became a minister of state,, 
a bishop, and finally a saint. 

'I'he dignity and power of the Merovingian race 
of kings — £o called from Merovee, the grandfather 
of Clovis, the first king of France — were now at 
their height ; and as the early history of this family 
is filled with those crimes that characterize the dark- 
est age, so that of its decline and fall is of such a na- 
ture as to justify us in dismissing the subject, after a 
bare enumeration of their respective names. Dago- 
bert died in 644, and was succeeded by his sons, 

SIGEBERT THE SECOND AND CLOVIS THE SECOND^ 

After them the kingdom was divided among th& 
children of the latter; the former having left one son, 
who was dispossessed of his throne, and confined in 
a monastery in Ireland. Clotaire ihe Third, Childe- 
ric the Second, Thierry the Third, Clovis the Third, 
Childchert the Second, Dagobert the Second, Chilpe- 
ric ilif iSeconc, Thierry the Fourih, and Cliil Jeric tli^ 



24 BEAUTIES OP 

Third, were the remaining kings of the race of Mero- 
vee; — but the history of their several reigns is rather 
that of the mayors of the palace than of independent 
monarchs. The epithet of Rois Faineans (sluggards) 
was universally bestowed upon them ; and by this 
unenviable distinction they are known to posterity. 
One of the mayors, Pepin, obtained so much influ- 
ence that he enjoyed every thing belonging to the 
monarchs of France, except the name; the legitimate 
kings being only brought forward on state occasions, 
as puppets in a pageant. Pepin himself was satisfied 
with the title of suhregulus^ or viceroy, given to him 
by the pope \ but he projected a higher for his fami- 
ly. Charles, surnamed Martel^ or the Hammer, suc- 
ceeded to his office, and surpassed him in courage, 
energy, and power. His name is too prominent and 
important at this period of French history to be 
brieflly dismissed. Although he had many victories 
to fifain and enemies to subdue before his influence as 
mayor of the palace was established, yet it is to his 
wars with the Saracens that he is indebted for the re- 
putation he has obtained, and the rank he holds as 
one of the most eminent men of his age and coun- 
try. In the year 72], the Saracenfi, under the tri- 
umphant banner of Mahomet, had extended their 
conquests from the Indus to the Mediterranean, and 
over a considerable portion of Africa. Having been 
invited into Spain by Count .Julian to assist him in 
avenging a family quarrel with Roderic the king, thejr 



* FRExVCH HISTORY. 25 

subdued that country with ease, and thence passed 
over the Pyrenees, and threatened to bring France 
under their yoke. Charles met them near Poitiers : 
iheir army, including its followers, consisted of 
400,000 persons ; his being far inferior in numbers. 
The combatants lay a week in sight of each other. 
At last both resolved to fight. The battle commenced 
with fury, and continued during the greater part of 
the day. With axe and sabre the French hewed 
down the enemy ; but new fronts were continually 
opposed to them, until at length victory crowned their 
persevering efforts. In this action nearly 375,000 of 
the Saracens, together with their general, are said to 
have been slain ; and, if we may credit the historian, 
only 1500 of the French. It was from his acts of 
prowess on this occasion, that Charles derived the 
surname of Muriel^ his strokes falling numberless 
and effectual on the heads of his enemies. To the 
memory of Charles Martel, Christianity owes a large 
debt for this service. If France had been left to the 
charge of les Rois Faineans^ Mahometanism would 
undoubtedly have spread over the fairest portions of 
Europe. He died in October, 741. Every thing in 
his character and conduct is great; and his reputation 
is unsullied by a single act of wilful oppression or 
capricious bloodshed. In establishing his own power 
he aggrandized the state ; giving stability to the go- 
vernment, and glory to the arms of France. 

Charles had adopted the same policy as his father: 
3 



26 BEAUTIES OP 

satisfied with the substance, without the name of roy- 
alty, he nevertheless laboured to diminish the dis- 
tance and surmount the difficulties that lay between 
his family and the crowu. He obtained the consent 
of the assembled states to the succession of his sons, 
Carloman to the dukedom of Austrasia, and Pepin to 
that of Burgundy and Neustria; and for Griffon, he 
procured a grant of some territory. At this period, 
Childeric the Third was the nominal king of France; 
he was the last of the Merovingian race, which, be- 
ginning with Clovis, had, to the nundier of thirty-two 
kings, filled the throne for two hundred and seventy 
years Pepin, in consequence of the unfitness of his 
brother Griffon to reign, and the volnntar)'' retirement 
of Carloman to a monastery, found himself in a situ- 
ation that placed the crown of France within his 
reach. The general incapacity of Childeric was ac- 
knowledged ; but Pepin was desirous that the sanc- 
tion of the pope should diminish the scruples of the 
people in deposing their legitimate sovereign. A case 
of conscience was therefore submitted to his holi- 
ness ; " whether it were expedient that the nominal 
and real source of power should be divided ; and whe- 
ther he who possessed all kingly power ought not to 
assume the rank and title of king ?" The pope de- 
cided in favour of the real governor, in preference to 
the incapable but legitiuiale monarch. Childeric and 
his son, therefore, were shaved, dethroned, and placed 
?n a mona.steiy ; and Pepin was solemnly crowned 



FRENCH HISTORY. 27 

by the archbishop of May ence and the pope's legale; 
the ceremony of coronation being thus, for the lirst 
time, substituted for the ancient one of elevating a 
new monarch upon the bucklers of his sohhery. By 
this event, tlie family of Merovee became extinct; and 
the second race of French monarchs, the Carlovin- 
gian, was founded in 751. 



THE CARLOVINGIAN RACE. 



PEPIX THE SHORT. 

The usurpation of Pepin, sanctioned as it was by 
the pope and the people of France, compelled him 
to adopt a course of policy, palatable to the one and 
salutary to the other. The only wars in which he 
engaged were foreign ones ; and he gained the love 
and esteem of his subjects to such a degree, that // 
est prudent comme Pep'ni^ became an adage. lie was 
surnamed the Short, on account of his extremely di- 
minutive stature; but his frame was stout and vigor- 
ous. At a public exhibition, while a strong lion held 
by the throat and almost strangled a furious bull, he 
proposed that some of the company should step for- 
ward and rescue him. The appeal to their courage 



28 BEAUTIES OF 

was, however, unanswered. The king lose from his 
seat, leaped into the arena, cut the throat of the lion, 
and with one stroke of his sword severed the head 
of the bull. Then, turning to the assembly, he said, 
*' David was a little man, yet he slew Goliath ; Alex- 
ander was of small size, yet had he greater strength 
and courage than many of his officers who were 
taller and handsomer than he." One historian states 
this circumstance to have taken place before Pepin 
ascended the throne, and adds, that he addressed the 
surrounding courtiers, saying, "Am I now worthy to 
be your king ?" It is certain that a better plan could 
scarcely have been devised for gaining the hearts of 
a fierce and warlike people; and the contrast between 
the vigour and spirit of Pepin, and the weakness and 
incompetency of Childeric, was a forcible appeal to 
the good opinion of his future subjects. 

Pepin died of a fever in 768 ; and on his tomb at 
St. Denis is inscribed this brief but striking epitaph : 
" Pepin, father of Charlemagne." He deserved a bet- 
ter, however; for he governed with prudence and 
energy, and left an unsullied reputation (if we except 
the act of usurpation, which cannot be palliated). He 
liad two sons, 

CHARLES AND CARLOMAN. 

The death of Carloman, three years after his father, 
left Charles master of the whole French monarchy. 
His conquests were great and numerous. He sub- 



FRENCH HISTORY. ZS9 

dued Spain; but as he was returning to his own 
country, laden with spoil, he was attacked at the me- 
morable pass of Rancevaux by a large band of Gas- 
con mountaineers. They saw the fancied security 
of the French army, coveted the riches they were 
bearing with them, and embraced the precious oppor- 
tunity of vengeance and plunder. Concealing them- 
selves in the woods, at the entrance of the narrow 
defile, they allowed the king and a great part of his 
force to pass unmolested, and then falling on the bag- 
gage, killed the guards, and bore it away to inacces- 
sible places, before the main body of the army was 
aware of the struggle. In this skirmish Charles lost 
his nephew, " the brave Roland," of whose prowess 
and chivalry frequent mention is made in ancient lays 
and romances. 

The constant success and extensive dominions of 
Charles spread his fame to every quarter of the globe. 
The Moors and Saracens respected and feared him ; 
the Patriarch of Jerusalem honoured him with many 
Facred gifts ; and the king of Persia, Aaron Raschid, 
the great monarch and conqueror of the East, knowing 
how acceptable Jerusalem and some other parts of 
his empire would be to the acknowledged protector 
of the Catholic church, presented them to him, as a 
pledge of his friendship.* No honour or title seemed 

* Among the presents sent to him by Aaron Raschid, was a 
very curious clock, worked by water. Tlie dinl was composed 
of twelve small doors ; out of which little balls fell on a brass 

3* 



30 BEAUTIES OP 

too great for a sovereign so powerful and respected. 
At length Pope Leo the Third resolved to confer 
upon him the highest possible dignity, and gave him 
the rank and title of Emperor of the West. On 
Christmas-day, a. d. 800, while Charles was attend- 
ing high mass at the church of St. Peter, in Rome, 
the pope approached him, and solemnly placing the 
imperial crown upon his head, proclaimed, "Long 
live Charles Augustus! crowned by the hand of God» 
Life and victory to the great and pacific emperor of 
the Romans I" — the clergy and the people shouting, 
*' Long live Charles Augustus, emperor of the Ro- 
mans !" 

The brave and energetic king, who obtained and 
justly merited the title of Charlemagne — Charles the 
Great — died in January, 814, in the seventy-first 
year of his age, and the forty-seventh of his glorious 
and prosperous reign. He was of a robust constitu- 
tion, rather above the ordinary height, possessing a 
handsome and manly person, and an open and agree- 
able countenance. His understanding was clear and 
vigorous, his judgment decisive, and his resolution 
firm. His plans were formed Avith sagacity and pru- 
dence, and carried into effect with energy and deter- 
mination. As a sovereign he was great, as a man 
good ; and upon few of those who either went be- 

drum to mark the hours. When it was twelve o'clock, as 
many horsemen in miniature issued forth, and marcliing rouad 
closed all the doors. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 31 

fore or came after him, could a better epitaph be in- 
scribed. It was his custom to seal all his treaties 
with the hilt of his sword : "• I have sealed it," he 
would say, '' with my sword-hilt, and 1 will maintain 
it with the point." 

Notwithstanding the multitude of his occupations, 
he gave much of his time and attention to study, and 
laboured continually to spread a desire for know- 
ledge throughout his dominions. On one occasion 
we find him inspecting the school of a learned monk, 
named Clement, whom he had invited over from Ire- 
land ; and observing the youth of the humbler class 
to have made greater progress than those of the higher 
orders, he placed the former on the right hand, and 
thus addressed them : " Continue, my children, to 
improve ; you shall be rewarded ; 1 will raise you 
to stations of rank and power. But as for you," 
turning to the idle scholars, " you delicate sons of 
noble birth, and heirs to property in which you toa 
much confide — you have spent your days in indo- 
lence or vain amusement. Know that your birth 
shall avail you naught unless you speedily redeem 
the time you have lost." 

During the reign of Charlemagne and of several of 
his predecessors, trials by battle were very common. 
In the darker ages it was believed that Providence in- 
terfered in the cause of justice : and in ordeals by 
duel, it was always imagined that right, and not might, 
was sure to be triumphant The accuser and the 



32 BEAUTIES OP 

accused, or their champions (deputies) engaged to 
rest the truth of their assertions on the issue of a 
single combat ; and the truth was invariably decided 
to be with the conqueror.* By the Capitulary of Da- 
gobert, A.D. 816, ordinary persons wer'^ allowed to 
fight with cudgels ; and the convicted individual was 
ordered to lose his right hand. Another kind of trial 
was that of lifting, handling, or touching hot iron. 
A bar of iron was heated more or less, according to 
the extent of the crime alleged against the accused. 
The bar was the property of the clergy, who were 
paid for its use. The iron was either to be handled 
or walked upon ; and was sometimes in the form of 
a glove into which the hand was to be thrust. The 
part applied to it was instantly wrapped up and sealed 
by the judge and the prosecutor ; on the third day 
the bandages were removed, and the guilt or inno- 
cence of the party determined by the fact, whether he 
had received any injury from the experiment. The 
trial by boiling water was of a similar character: 
sometimes a finger-rmg was thrown into a pan or 

* At this period, nearly every crime was punished by a fine. 
Among the list of offences for which compensation could be thus 
made, we find the following : 

solidi. 
For killing a girl free born .... 200 

a slave 35 

- - ■ a freeman ..... 200 

by thrusting him into a well . . 600 

For hiring a man to steal or kill . . . 100 



FREJfCH HISTORY. 33 

kettle, and the accused required to grope for and take 
it out. The following anecdote will illustrate this 
extraordinary usage. A dispute having occurred be- 
tween a Catholic and an Arian, the former observed 
** To what purport do we argue ? let us appeal to 
fact ; get a boiler, put it on the fire, and cast a ring 
into it ; and he who takes it out shall convert the 
rest of the company." The challenge being accept- 
ed by the Arian, the Catholic politely requested him 
to begin the business, which he as politely declined, 
alleging that the other had the merit of first pro- 
posing the mode of deciding their differences. The 
Catholic bared his arm, and just as he was about to 
introduce it into the boiler, a monk, accidentally pass- 
ing by, offered himself in his stead, which was readily 
agreed on. The ring was light and small, and the 
water much agitated in boiling; nevertheless, after an 
hour's searcli, the monk found it. The Arian next 
made a similar attempt \ but in a few moments the 
skin and flesh of his arm were destroyed ; and thus 
the contest end'ed. This story is, of course, one of 
the monkish legends invented to deceive the credu- 
lous. It is related by Gregory, the historian of Tours, 
in his book De gloria Martyrum. The trial by the 
cross was rather more rational. Two pieces of wood, 
one marked with the sign of the cross, having been 
placed underneath the altar, the person fortunate 
enough to select the marked piece was declared in- 
nocent. 



34 BEAUTIES OP 

The son and successor of Charlemagne, was 

LOUIS THE FIRST, 

fiurnamed "le Debonnaire," who had participated in 
the government of his father during his lifetime; and 
who, on ascending the throne, imitated Charlemagne's 
example by dividing his dominions among his sons, 
and appointing Lothaire, the eldest, his immediate 
associate. Louis was a weak king; and he had occa- 
sion shortly to repent his misplaced confidence; for 
his sons entered into a conspiracy to wrest the king- 
dom from him. They succeeded in taking prisoner 
Judith, his second queen, their stepmother; but agreed 
to spare her life on condition that the would persuane 
the emperor to retire with her to a monastery, and 
relinquish his throne. To these terms siie assented; 
and returned to her husband. She slated to him her 
solemn engagemeiit to go again to the cKmp of his 
sons, with whatever message he might authorize her 
to carry. Louis gave he^ for answer to the rebel 
princes, that she was at liberty to place herself in a 
convent; but that with reference to himself, he con- 
sidered it necessary to consult his subjects. The un- 
happy monarch convoked an assembly at Compiegne, 
and submitted the proposition to them. His manner 
of doing so, however, was unworthy of his character 
as a sovereign, and his station as a man. He declined 
sitting on the throne, but stood near it in an humi- 
liating posture; confessed his personal defects and in- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 35 

capacity to govern ; and concluded by asking the ad- 
vice of the meeting, which was deeply affected at his 
words and appearance. Almost immediately after- 
wards, however, Louis delivered himself up to his 
worthbss and ungrateful sons, who kept him a close 
prisoner. Subsequently, he was accused of various 
immoralities and high crimes, and condemned by a 
kind of mock tribunal to a penance, which was to con- 
tinue for life, and during which he was held incapable 
of enjoying any title, or of discha':"ging any public 
duty. To this humiliating penance he was accordingly 
subjected, and being led to the cluirch of St. Medard, 
at Soissoris, he prostrated himself on a hair cloth, 
spread upon the ground, confessed his guilt, and ad- 
mitted the truth of the accusations against him. The 
Bishop of Rheims, who presided on the occasion, put 
a garment of sackcloth on his body, and conducted 
him to a small cell in the monastery where he was 
to spend the remainder of his degraded existence. 
Som3 remnant of spirit was yet left in the weak- 
mimled old man; for, on being told that he mu?itgive 
np his sword, he ungirded it from his loins and threw 
it violendy down at the bottom of the altar. From 
tlii'! affecting but disgraceful scene, the assembled 
people retired in sullen silence. Louis was, some 
ti 1) ^ ;i'\'?", r'ir,a;2 1 ; b'lt \\h m^.Ual p^ace was gone : 
h". ''ied in 810, in the sixtieth year of his age. His 
f'"hl'>ness atid superstition unfitted him to guide the 
lielni of a great kingdom ; but he was entitled to the 



36 BEAUTIES OF 

esteem, if not the respect, of his subjects ; and filial 
ingratitude was what he had never deserved : amiable 
to a fault, he appears to have retained the sense of 
injuries only until he found an opportunity to pardon. 
When on his death-bed, his son Louis sent to en- 
treat forgiveness :" Tell him," said the dying man, 
" that I do forgive him, but that he makes my gray 
hairs descend with sorrow to the grave." 

CHARLES THE SECOND, 

surnamed " the Bald," succeeded his father. His bro- 
ther, Lothaire, however, obtained Italy, and laid claim 
to the title of emperor. This dispute gave rise to a 
war between the brothers ; it was decided by the fatal 
battle of Fontenoy, in which so many thousand brave 
knights of France and Italy were slain. The carnage 
on both sides has been estimated at 100,000 men ; and 
some authors trace to this circumstance the custom 
in Champagne, by which, to repair the loss of nobility, 
children became ennobled by the mother, whatever 
might be the father*'s rank. 

Charles died in 877, leaving his titles and domi- 
nions to his only son, Louis the Second, called "le 
Begue," or the Stammerer. 

1 Louis the Third, Carloman, and Charles the Third, 
surnamed " the Fat," severally succeeded to the 
crown of France. The Norman invasion forms a 
striking episode in the otherwise uninteresting reigns 
of these monarchs. In the year 805, those hardy and 



FRENCH HIS Tour. 3"? 

enterprising northern pirates, under the command of 
Sigefrid, a fierce but skilful soldier, laid siege to the 
city of Paris, which at this ^tirne must have been of 
considerable extent and importance. Julius Caesar, 
about nine centuries before, had described it as a place 
of some note; and as central and convenient for the 
holding of assemblies, inasmuch as it afforded accom- 
modation to the multitude usually expected to attend 
on such occasions. From his account, however, it 
appears that the houses were chiefly of wood, and 
confined to that part of it which was then an island, 
surrounded by almost impassable marshes. Soon af- 
ter the reign of Clovis, it became the capital of France. 
When attacked by the Normans it was well defended ; 
having been principally intrusted to a general named 
Eudes, and the Bishop Goselin, who wore the hel- 
met and bore the axe, in place of the mitre and cro- 
sier. The siege v/as conducted, and the city con- 
tested, with obstinate courage on both sides; but the 
Normans availed themselves of the opportunity to 
plunder the country in all directions; slaughtering 
the inhabitants without mercy, and filling the trenches 
around the town with the bodies of the dead. In a 
general assault, the enemy scaled the ramparts, but 
were prevented from entering the city by the intre- 
pidity of one man, who persuaded five comrades — no 
others being near him — that they were a match for 
the assailants, and succeeded in forcing them from 
the walls. To the eternal disgrace of Charles the 
4 



38 BEAUTIES OP 

Third, although he came at length to the relief of the^ 
gallant citizens with an immense army, he was mean 
and cowardly enough to bribe off the Normans, whom 
lie might easily have destroyed to a man. He died 
A. D. 888, having been dethroned by his subjects a 
few months before; and Eudes, or Odo, was unani- 
mously called to the throne of France by the states 
^vhich had deposed Charles. Eudes is said to have 
been a descendant of Charles Martel, and had rendered 
himself exceedingly popular by his brave- defence 
of Paris, just mentioned. The son of the legitimate 
monarch was, however, in course of time, restored. 
Charles " the Simple," Raoul, Louis the Fourth, Lo- 
tliaire the Second, and Louis the Fifth, successively- 
swayed tl\e French sceptre, and by the death of the 
latter, the mce of the Carlovingian kings became 
extinct, after having governed France for 237 years; 
"when a new dynasty was called to reign over the 
jkingdom. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 39 



THE CAPETIAN RACE. 



HUGH'CAPET. 

Hugh Capet ascended the throne of France in 
987, in the room of the uncle of Louis the Fifth, 
who had rendered himself unpopular by becoming a 
vassal of Germany in Lorraine. He was the spn of 
Hugh the Great, Count of Paris, and great-grandson 
to Robert the Strong, who is stated to have been a 
descendant of Charlemagne. He had, however, to 
£ght for his crown, although its possession was of 
little value, since, in exchanging the title of duke for 
that of king, he obtained no real advantage, or ac- 
cession of power; for under the government of his 
imbecile predecessor, he was, in reality, the ruler of 
France. After two years of doubtful war, the hopes of 
the few remnants of the Carlovingian race ceased any 
longer to influence their feeble partisans, and Capet 
■was firmly established in the dominions he was so 
"well fitted to govern. 

Hugh Capet is, indeed, one of the most prominent 
persons in the history of France, not only on account 
of his wisdom and valour, but from being the mitof 
a long race of kings, who, for several centurieg, sat 
tipon the French throne. If it be possible to find an 
excuse for usurpation, it exists in his case : for the 



40 BEAUTIES OF 

greater number of his predecessors were imbecilesy 
unfit to govern. He held the crown, however, by a 
precarious tenure; and was frequently reminded of 
the circumstances under which it was obtained. 
"Who made you a count?" was a question once put 
by hira to one of his vassals. Those that made you 
a king," was the spirited reply. 

He died a. d. 997, leaving the kingdom to his son 



A prince described as handsome in person, and of pe- 
culiarly gentle deportment; and though by no means 
destitute of military skill, a lover of peace. 

An anecdote is related of Mm, that strongly shows 
the extraordinary power possessed by the Papal See, 
even at that early period, over France and its kings. 
Robert was distantly related to his wife Bertha, daugh- 
ter of Conrad, king of Burgundy; and had stood 
godfather to her son by a former marriage. He was 
devotedly attached to her, and the idea of their sepa- 
ration was painful as the pangs of death, when the 
proud and revengeful Pope Gregory the Fifth issued 
his mandate for her divorce. The sentence, bein^ 
disregarded by the king, was followed by one of ex- 
communication — the consequences of which were, 
that the kingdom was laid under an interdict, the ad- 
miRistration of government was suspended ; the courts 
of justice were shut; religious privileges were with- 
held, and even the dead remained unburied. The 



FRENCH HISTORY. 41 

king himself was deserted — two domestic servants 
only being permitted to attend him. Such, however, 
was the general sympathy of the people towards their 
unhappy prince, that no advantage was taken of his 
condition to promote disorder, or to encourage in- 
surrection. 

At length Robert was compelled to put away Bertha, 
after she had borne him a child : and although the 
business of the historian goes no further than to relate 
the circumstance as we have done, yet the writer of fic- 
tion may build a noble structure upon this simple fact, 

Robert died in 1031, and was succeeded by his 
eldest son, 

HENRY THE FIRST. 

Almost immediately after his accession, his mother 
Constantia, by whom he was hated to a most unac- 
countable degree, endeavoured to depose him, and 
place her favourite son Robert on the throne; but her 
death, in 1032, left him in peaceable possession of the 
crown. Jn 1059, kenry, having passed a life of 
comparative quiet, and free from any extraordinary' 
incidents, finding the weakness of age coming upon 
him, appointed his son Philip his associate in the 
kingdom. Philip was therefore consecrated and 
crowned king. The following ceremonies of the 
coronation have been preserved; and are interesting 
as illustrative of the manners of the times. 

After the celebration of mass on the day of Pente- 
4* 



4^ BEAUTIES OF 

cost, Gervase, the Archbishop of Rheiras, who presi- 
ded, turned towards the young prince, and after stating 
and expounding to him the Catholic faith, interrogated 
liim, whether he believed, and would defend it: hav- 
ing answered in the affirmative, Philip read and sub- 
scribed the coronation oath, as follows : 

" I, Philip, by the grace of G od, king of the French, 
promise before God and his saints, that I will preserve 
to every one of you, and to your churches, your ca- 
nonical privileges, and will duly maintain law and 
justice ; and that with the help of God I will protect 
you as far as it shall be in my power, and as it is 
becoming every king in his own realm to maintain 
the rights of the church and clergy committed to his 
protection. In a word, I will take care that the laws 
shall be duly administered to all the people over whom 
I am this day placed." Having read this, he returned 
it into the hands of the Archbishop ; after which, that 
prelate, taking the pastoral staff of St. Reme, enlarged 
on the right which the archbishops of Rheims had 
exclusively enjoyed since the days of Clovis, of con- 
secrating and crowning the kings of France ; which 
right was confirmed to them by the deeds of Popes 
Hermisdas and Victor 5 then having received the con- 
sent of the prince's father, he declared Philip king of 
France. The pope's legates were next permitted, not 
as .a right but as an expression of regard, to repeat 
the same declaration, the words of which were now 
proclaimed by the other archbishops, bishops, abbots^^ 



FRENCH HISTORY. 43 

and clergy ; by the nobles according to their rank ; 
and, lastly, by the soldiers and people present, from 
circle to circle, all exclaiming three times, " We ap- 
prove ; we will ; so be it." The ceremony was con- 
cluded by the king's subscribing the claim of the 
Archbishops of Rheims always exclusively to preside 
on such occasions, and by constituting Gervase his 
chancellor. Gervase entertained the king and the 
whole assembly, which was V3ry numerous; but 
under protest, that his successors should not be after- 
wards held bound to sustain this burden. 
Henry died shortly after this event ; and 

PHILIP THE FIRST 

commenced his reign, a. d. 1060. It is chiefly re- 
markable on account of foreign events, rather than 
domestic occurrences ; and by the achievements of 
others, rather than his own. Although his kingdom 
was materially affected by the Norman conquest of 
England, and the spirit of the crusades, which began 
so much to agitate and change the state of Europe, 
he was neither personally engaged in the one, nor 
influenced by the other. 

An attempt was made in 1076, by Philip the First, 
to recover Normandy, as a province of France. The 
effort was unsuccessful, notwithstanding the absence 
of William of Normandy (the Conqueror), who of 
necessity sojourned in England. William had com- 
mitted the care of his duchy to his eldest son Robert j 



44 BEAUTIES OF 

but the young prince, led astray by the flattery of his 
courtiers, sought to exchange the shadow for the sub- 
stance of power, and trusting to the support he ex- 
pected from the French court, summoned his father 
to grant him formal possession of his Norman do- 
minions. " It is not my custom to strip myself before 
I go to bed," was William's reply, the smartness of 
which — however justly merited' — converted the son 
into a rebel, and a war was the consequence. It con- 
tinued for some years ; and towards the conclusion 
of it, Robert engaged his father in single combat with- 
out knowing against whom he contended, as his visor 
was down. The youth struck to the earth the more 
aged warrior ; but as he fell, recognizing his voice, 
he cast himself at his feet and implored forgiveness. 
Tet the British king was not generotis enough to 
pardon the repentant prince; and left him without 
any proof of parental forgiveness 

On one occasion, when William, who was very cor- 
pulent, was confined to his bed by sickness, Philip 
remarked, " How long will it be till tliat pregnant 
man be delivered ?" The jest was reported to Wil- 
liam, who sent the French king this message : " Tell 
him," said he, in allusion to the manner of church- 
ing women, " that I shall attend the church of Saint 
Genevieve, at Paris, with ten thousand spears instead 
cif wax candles." He kept his word, in part; set 
'3^antf"s OR fire ; and would have reached the gates of 



FRENCH HISTORY. 45 

the French capital, but that death overtook him on 
the way. 

The fame of the son and successor of Philip, 
]Louis, surnamed " the Battler," had spread far and 
wide even at a very early age. But his popularity 
excited the envious hatred of his stepmother, the 
Queen Bertrade ; and LOuis being absent from France 
on a visit to the English monarch, Henry the First, 
Bertrade conceived this a favourable opportunity for 
carrying her plans into execution. She wrote, or 
caused to be written, a letter to Henry, which she 
sealed with the seal of Philip, conjuring him, for va- 
luable consideration, to murder his guest. Henry 
shuddered at the base proposal, indignantly refused 
to become the tool of a wicked woman, and commu- 
nicated the contents of the epistle to Louis. The 
youth immediately left England ; threw himself at 
the feet of his father, and demanded justice — but in 
vain. The queen subsequently attempted to poison 
him : and he was only saved by timely and suitable 
medicine. 

The ceremony of investing a knight seems to have 
attained all its solemnity during the reigns of Philip 
the First and his predecessor. Recovering from her 
depression and disorder, France saw the importance 
of rousing young men to military fame by all means, 
sensible, romantic, and religious. Sieges, embarka- 
tions, victories, festivals, and other such public occa- 
sions, were the usual seasons for conferring the ho- 



46 BEAUTIES OF 

nonr of knighthood. In the field it was summarily 
performed, but in ordinary instances it commenced 
with watching, fasting, and various austerities ; whole 
nights were spent in prayer, with the assistance of a 
priest and near relations ; religious discourses, suit- 
able to the occasion, were delivered ; confession of 
sins was made; divers washings were employed; 
white raiment was put on ; and the Eucharist was re- 
ceived. 

The candidate having finished all the preliminary 
ceremonies, which lasted several days, was attended 
to the church by his friends in solemn procession. 
He advanced to the altar, with a sword slang in a 
scarf depending from his neck, and presented the 
weapon to the priest, who consecrated and restored 
it. Joining his hands, he then turned to those who 
were to gird on his armour; and holding out his 
sword, solemnly declared and swore, that his motive 
and end in entering into the order was to maintain 
and promote the honour and interests of religion and 
chivalry. 

The assistants, some of whom were ladies, having 
bound on his armour and suitable ornaments, he knelt 
before the sovereign, or presiding knight, who, by 
three strokes with the flat of the naked sword on the 
neck or shoulders, dubbed him a knight. Sometimes 
it was done with the palm of the hand on the cheek. 
In either case the action was accompanied with these 
words : " In the name of God, of Saint Michael, and 



FRENCH HISTORY. 47 

Saint George, T make thee a knight ; be worthy, brave, 
and loyal!" Then his buckler and hehnet being also 
put on, he grasped his spear, and walking forlh, leaped 
without stirrup on his horse, performing several 
courses and flourishes to show his dexterity, amidst 
the acclamations of his friends and of the multitude^ 
who usually attended to witness the pageant. 
In the year 1108, FhUip died, and 

LOUIS THE SIXTH 

Succeeded to the crown. He had early to contend 
with and subdue several powerful and daring conspi- 
rators, who sought to exclude him from the govern- 
ment. The most distinguished among them, once 
said to his countess, as he buckled on his armour, 
" J now put it on with the hands of a count, but will 
take it off with those, of a king." That very day, 
however, the knight was slain. It was during the 
reign of this monarch and of his predecessor, that 
the far-famed Crusades became the all-engrossing 
subject of attention throughout Europe. The fre- 
quent, and sometimes exaggerated accounts, of cruel- 
ties practised on devout pilgrims to the Holy Sepul- 
chre at Jerusalem, and the reports of the insults that 
were offered to the most holy mysteries and monu- 
ments of Christianity, filled all Christendom with 
zealous indignation. The increasing flame was efTec- 
lually fanned by the breath of Peter the Hermit — ta 
whom imdoubtedly belongs the merit, or, to speak 



48 BEAUTIES OP 

more correctly, the demerit, of originating the Cru- 
sades to the Holy Land. Peter was a native of 
Amiens, in France ^ a man of diminutive stature, and 
mean appearance, but of an ingenious mind, and pos- 
sessing a rude yet powerful and effective eloquence. 
Princes, clergy, nobles, and people eagerly listened, 
were persuaded, and became ready to sacrifice home, 
fortune, and country, and embark upon the important, 
and, as it was deemed, sacred enterprise of wresting 
Palestine from the Infidel. The pope, Urban the Se- 
cond, assembled a great council at Piacentia, a. d. 
1095 — which was attended by 4000 clergy, and 
30,000 laymen, from France, Germany, and Italy — 
and the crusade was resolved upon. To engage in 
the holy war, monks quitted their cells, husbands 
forsook their wives, fathers deserted their children ; 
no tie was considered too close to be broken ; and 
princes, dukes, barons, bishops, abbots, merchants, 
tradesmen, mechanics, labourers, women and chil- 
dren, flocked round the banner his holiness had un- 
furled ; until the number enrolled in the list of war- 
riors is said to have amounted to six millions. It 
seemed as if all Europe was ready to precipitate itself 
upon Asia. The principal French leader, next to Pe- 
ter the Hermit, was Walter Senseavir, known as Wal- 
ter the Pennyless, a poor, but noble and experienced 
soldier. 

By disease, desertion, and losses in the various 
battles fought on the way^ the Christian army was 



FRENCH HISTORY. 49 

reduced to about 20,000 effective men when they en- 
camped before Jerusalem. After a siege of five weeks 
they succeeded in taking the city ; when they gave 
no quarter to the enemy, but coolly butchered every 
man, v/oman, and child, within its walls ; then, as- 
suming the habit and manner of pilgrims, they 
inarched in solemn procession to the Holy Sepul- 
chre, with blood-stained hands embraced it, offered 
up thanksgivings amid the groans of tens of thou- 
sands dying, and, believing they were doing God 
service, prayed for strength to commit farther mas- 
sacre ! 

It is but justice, however, to state, that ridiculous 
and cruel as were the crusades to the Holy Land, 
they did more towards promoting literature than 
merely rouse the mind : they took off the pressure 
of ecclesiastical despotism, not only by the indul- 
gence and liberty granted generally on such occa- 
sions by the church, but by the departure of many 
spiritual tyrants, whose absence gave a relaxation of 
spirit before unknown ; fhey produced frequent in- 
tercourse among men during the preparations which 
w^ere made for the expedition ; they led to important 
inquiries into the nature and state of the countries 
through which they v/ere to march, as w^ell as of 
those in which they were to engage in warfare ; they 
were the occaoion of general and sustained corres- 
pondence betwixt Europe and Asia; and they gave a 
turn for observation and comparison. These excite- 
5 



50 BEAUTIES OF 

ments and communications led to more extensive 
discussions and investigations : journals, memoirs,, 
particular and general histories, &.C., were written; 
and geography, especially, was cultivated. The cler- 
gy of the Eastern and Western churches, who had 
only heard of each other by means of controversies^ 
and through the medium of prejudice, now embraced^ 
conversed together, and imparted their knowledge,^. 
their manuscripts, and other modes of learning and 
improvement. 

Louis patronized and protected the son of Robert^,,, 
brother of Henry the First, king of England, by 
whom Robert himself was detained in prison. He,, 
therefore, proclaimed William duke of Normandy^ 
and sought to maintain him in his duchy by force of 
arms. The French king was, however, unsuccess- 
ful ; he was beaten by the English at Brenneville, in 
1119, and the Normans renewed their oaths of fealty 
to Henry and his son. But Henry at this time suf- 
fered a domestic calamity that more than counter- 
balanced his prosperity in the north of Europe. His 
only son, William, had embarked at Barfleur, after 
receiving the homage of the Norman barons ; but, in 
consequence of the captain of the vessel and his crew 
being intoxicated, the ship struck on a rock, and im- 
mediately foundered. W' dliam was put into the long- 
boat, and had got clear of the vessel ; when, hearing 
the shrieks of his natural sister, he ordered the sea- 
men to put back and tave her. But the numbers thai 



FRENCH HISTORY. 51 

crowded in, sunk the boat, and the humane prince 
perished. A butcher of Rouen, a remarkably strong 
man, was the only person who escaped. He climbed 
to the top of the mast, and clung to it, until he was 
rescued by some fishermen. It is said that the cap- 
tain, Fitzstephen, had also the same means of preser- 
vation in his power ; but when informed by the 
butcher that the prince was drowned, he let g-o his 
hold, and fell into the sea. 

Louis VJ. died in 1137, and was succeeded by his 
son, 

LOrrS THE SEVENTH, 

Who, after having- reduced his rebellious vassal, the" 
count of Champagne, to obedience, exceeded even 
the usual cruelty of conquerors; and, instead of 
sheathing his sword Vyhen the inhabitants of Vetri 
submitted, set fire to a church in which thirteen hun- 
dred of them had taken refuge, and burnt them alive. 
In a fit of remorse for this merciless act, he resolved 
to undertake a pilgrimage to Jerusalem ; and became 
the first sovereign prince who engaged to fight under 
the banner of the Cross. 

The reign of this monarch is distinguished in poe- 
try and romance by the loves of Abelard and Eloise. 
Abelard was vain of his personal attractions and in- 
tellectual attainments, and imagined himself wholly 
irresistible by the fair sex. Eloise, his pupil, was 
young, beautiful, learned, and highly accomplished. 



52 BEAUTIES OP 

Abelard grossly abused the trust reposed in him, and 
married her privately. The wrath of her uncle, a ca- 
non, and her relatives, compelled the one to take re- 
fuge in a cloister, and the other to become a nun and 
seclude herself in the abbey of Argenteuil. Abelard, 
some years after, built a monastery, which he called 
Paraclete, or the Comforter, and of which he appoint- 
ed her abbess, where she ended her days. The let- 
ters that passed between them after their separation, 
aie exquisite specimens of composition. Pope's 
poem on the subject is composed chiefly of passages 
taken from them, and versified. 

Towards the end of his days, Louis came over 
to England, for the purpose of visiting the tomb of 
Thomas a Becket — famed, in that superstitious age, 
for its miraculous cures. He died in 1 180, and left 
the kingdom of France to his son, 

PHILIP THE SECOND. 

The reign of this monarch was rendered notorious 
by a general persecution of the Jews, who had set- 
tled in considerable numbers in France. Their suc- 
cess and industry were envied by those who would 
not imitate their diligence and care. They had be- 
come so wealthy, as almost to engross the whole- 
commerce of Paris, and the principal cities of the pro- 
vinces. The king entered into the spirit of the 
church and of the people ; passed against them se- 
veral severe laws ; and, at length, banished them out 



FRENCH HISTORY. 63 

of the kingdom. One of the most prominent charges 
against them, was, that they had crowned a Christian 
v/ith thorns, in derision, and afterwards scourged and 
crucified him. Upon this charge fourscore were ap- 
prehended and burnt. 

Philip fought in Palestine, beside his illustrious 
rival and great competitor in the race of glory, Rich- 
ard the first of England; but envy prompted the 
French monarch to adopt the basest means of calum- 
niating the more frank and unsuspicious sovereign of 
"the lion's heart." There was in Asia a petty prince, 
called "the old Man of the Mountain," who had ac- 
quired such an ascendancy over his fanatical subjects, 
that they implicitly obeyed his commands, esteemed 
assassination meritorious when sanctioned by his or- 
ders, courted danger and death in his service, and be- 
lieved that the highest joys of paradise would be the 
infallible reward of their devoted obedience. Against 
the attempts of his subtle ruffians, no precaution or 
power was a sufficient guard. This prince of the As- 
sassins (for Assassins was the name given to his peo- 
ple ; whence the word has passed into most European 
languages) procured the murder of Conrad, Marquis 
of Montferrat, openly, at midday, in the streets of 
Sidon; and, although the deed was avowed by its 
author, and confirmed by the confession of the mur- 
derers, Philip endeavoured to fix the crime upon the 
English king, and made this shallow artifice the pre- 
text for attacking his possessions in France, in de- 
6* 



5^ BEAUTIES OF 

fence of which, Richard carried on a bloody and suc- 
cessful war against him; but on the accession of John 
to the British throne, they were wrested from the 
feeble hands of that weak and treacherous monarch. 

Philip had encouraged and supported the rebellion 
of John against his brother, while the king was a 
prisoner in Germany; but when ransomed by his 
subjects from his imprisonment, the French king 
wrote to his confederate, John, these words: "Take 
care of yourself; the devil is broken loose." During^ 
the war, John deserted Philip, threw himself at his 
brother's feet, and entreated pardon. " I forgive him," 
said Richard, " and hope I shall as easily forget his 
injuries as he will my pardon." A remarkable in- 
cident of the war, was the taking prisoner, in battle, 
of the Bishop of Beauvais. Richard threw him into 
prison; and, when the pope demanded his liberty, 
on the ground of his being a son of the church, he 
sent to his Holiness the coat of mail which the pre- 
late had worn, and which was besmeared with blood; 
replying to the mandate in the words used by Jacob's 
sons to the patriarch: "This have we found, but 
know not whether it be thy son's coat or no." 

After the death of Richard, the French king re- 
solved to obtain possession of Chateau Gaillard, the 
key to the British dominions in Normandy; and suc- 
ceeded in taking the fortress and town by two extra- 
ordinary stratagems. Gaubert, a native of Mantes, 
an excellent swimmer and diver, undertook to carry 



FRENCH HISTORY. 55 

fire in pots attached to his naked body, and kindle 
the palisades by which the town was defended. The 
plan was successful, and the garrison surrendered. 
The Chateau Gaillard was gained in a manner equally 
daring. A French sergeant, named Peter Bogis Camus, 
or Red-nose, descried a small window in the wall, 
which was intended to give light and air to a maga- 
zine. He proposed to enter the apartment by this 
aperture, assisted by such as were willing to follow 
him. He accomplished his object, opened the gates 
to the army ; and Philip took quiet possession of 
the place, which left the English territory in France 
an easy conquest. 

Philip next engaged in war with Otho, Emperor 
of Germany, hi the first battle fought between the 
rival monarchs, a German knight, named Eustache, 
of Magueline, rode forward before his troops, ex- 
claiming " Death to the French !" thinking to inspire 
his soldiers with a degree of enthusiasm that would 
be fatal to his enemies. He was immediately sur- 
rounded ; but, in consequence of the peculiar strength 
and closeness of his armour, it was found impossible 
to inflict a wound. At length one of them, seizing 
the helmet of Eustache between his arm and breast, 
pulled it away while another, with a short knife cut 
off his head. — Philip, every where victorious, died 
in the 58th year of his age, a. d. 1223.* 

* During this reign a curious case of restoration to heahh by 
of relics of the Saints is recorded. " On the 20th July, 



56 BEAUTIES OP 



LOUIS THE EIGHTH, 

Who succeeded his father, had heen previously pro- 
claimed King of England, grounding his claim to the 
crown of that country of the right of his wife, Blanche, 
granddaughter of Henry the Second. But, in conse- 
quence of the death of John, which happened at a 
critical moment, the English barons, by whom the 
French prince had been invited over, transferred their 
allegiance to the amiable Henry the Third, the eldest 
son of the wicked and vacillating John. 

During the reign of this king, and of his predeces- 
sor, the rage for tilts and tournaments became exces-r 
sive. So fond were the French of these spectacles, 

A. D. 1191," says Rigord, " Louis, son of Philip; was taken iU 
of a disease, called a dysentery ; they despaired of his recovery; 
but after due deliberation a solemn fast and procession were 
resolved on. The whole fraternity of St. Denis marched bare- 
foot lo the church of St. Lazarus, carrying one of the nails of 
the crucifixion, the sacred crown of thorns, and an arm of old 
Simeon; there, having offered the most fervent supplications, 
they were met by the inmates of all the convents of Paris, tho 
scholars of the Academy, and citizens, likewise barefoot, carry- 
ing relics, groaning audibly, and weeping bitterly ; thence 
they proceeded to the palace in which the young prince lay; 
■where a sermon was preached to the multitude. The nail, the 
crown of thorns, and arm of Simeon, were solemnly applied 
by touch, and passed along and across the belly of the patient; 
he kissed them and received the benediction : all this not only 
cured him, but changed the state of the atmosphere and of the 
season, which till then had been very wet and unfavourable." 



TRENCH HISTORY. 57 

that they preferred them to every other amusement, 
indulging in them notwithstanding their ecclesiastical 
prohibition, and by particular civil laws authorizing 
and regulating them as matters of the utmost impor- 
tance. ' 

The time and place of their exhibition were ex- 
tensively and solemnly proclaimed by heralds ; and: 
every man who had any ambition to be distin- 
guished for nobility, martial prowess, honour, and 
gallantry, attended and pressed into the lists of com- 
batants. Veterans were anxious to display at home 
the feats of strength, expertness, and skill, which had 
distinguished them abroad; while the young were, 
desirous to try their martial talents to emulate men 
of renown, and to learn, on occasions so public and 
critical, the most dexterous management and use of 
arms. It was a fatiguing, laborious, and often dan- 
gerous exercise ; yet, being countenanced by ladies 
in great numbers, and of the highest rank, it was ani- 
mated by their presence, and mollified by the respect 
shown for their feelings and judgment. They did 
not attend merely as spectators, but bore a consi- 
derable share in the ceremonies, and were constituted 
the judges of the combat; by their decision the victors, 
being declared and crowned. 

The reign of Louis the Seventh is chiefly remark- 
able for his unjust and cruel domestic crusades 
against the Albigenses, whose lands had been be- 
stowed upon him by the pope. This brave and per- 



58 BEAUTIES OF 

secuted people, miscalled heretics, had even at this 
early period abjured many of the grosser errors of 
the church of Rome; but after several hard struggles, 
and enduring the most dreadful persecution, they 
were forced to submit, and yield to the terms dic- 
tated by a bigoted and merciless conqueror. Many 
thousands were torn from their valleys and driven 
into exile ; and scaffiilds were erected and fires kin- 
dled in all the neighbouring cities, on which those 
who had most fortitude perished. The faith and 
constancy of these martyrs, however, rose superior 
to their trials. " Favour me," said Catalan Girard, 
one of them, as he sat on the funeral pile, " by giving 
me those two flint-stones." They were handed to 
liim. " Sooner," said he, " shall [ eat these stones, 
than you shall be able to destroy by persecution the 
religion for which 1 die." * 

Louis died in 1226, and left the crown to his eld- 
est son, 

* As an instance of the absurd nature of some of the Romish 
festivals in this reign, it is meniioned, (hat at Beauvais one was 
celebrated on the 11th of January, in commemoration of Jo- 
seph's flight, wiih Jesus and his mother, into Egypt. A hand- 
some young woman, wiih a good-looking child, having been set 
on an ass, was followed by the bishop and clergy from the ca- 
thedral church of St. Stephen ; where mass being performed, 
the priest concluded it, not in the usual words of the mass ser- 
vice, "ite missa est," but with an imitation of the braying of 
an ass, " hin-hau," three times repealed. 



FRENCH IlISTORy. 59 



LOUIS THE NINTH, 



Named St. Louis, who was but twelve years of age 
^vhen he ascended the throne. He united to the 
mean and abject superstition of a monk, all the cou- 
rage and magnanimity of a hero, the justice and in- 
tegrity of a patriot, and the mildness and humanity 
of a philosopher. In the wars between him and 
Henry the Third of England, the French king was 
generally victorious. On one occasion their armies 
met near Taillebourg, on the river Charente. The 
English troops consisted of 20,000 infantry, 1800 
knights, with their attendants, and 600 cross-bow 
men : the French force being superior, especially in 
cavalry. The contest was severe, and the latter were 
losing ground, when Louis leaped from his horse, 
called on his men to follow, and, pressing forward, 
the rout of the English was complete. Henry was 
overtaken and almost surrounded, when his brother 
Richard, putting off his helmet and cuirass, advanced 
with a small cane in his hand and demanded a par- 
ley. Louis, who esteemed him highly, consented to 
a truce: ^-Go tell your brother," said he, "that at 
your desire 1 grant him a suspension of arms till to- 
morrow, that he may have time to deliberate on his 
situation." Henry, however, had fled, and was fol- 
lowed to Sainles; so keen, indeed, was the pursuit^ 
that some French soldiers entered the gates with him, 
and were taken prisoners. After this victory, Louis. 



60 BEAUTIES OF 

ordained that such of his vassals as held English 
titles and estates, should choose which king they 
preferred; alleging, in the words of the Scripture, 
that " no man can serve two masters ;" and decreeing 
that they must thenceforward hold wholly to the one 
or the other. 

In the year 1248, Louis, following the example of 
some of his predecessors, resolved on a crusade to 
Palestine. Soon after embarkmg at Cyprus, the fleet 
arrived in sight of Damietta, on the eastern branch of 
the Nile, then considered the strongest and wealthiest 
city of Egypt. The scene is eloquently described by 
an eye-witness, the historian Joinvilie. The sultan 
commanded in person, his armour of gold reflecting 
the sun's rays with exceeding splendour; and the 
Turkish music was heard distinctly as it floated over 
the waters. Notwithstanding the advice of some of 
his nobles, the king resolved to land at daybreak, in 
the face of the sultan and the numerous host he had 
assembled to oppose the invaders. Flat-bottomed 
boats were provided for carrying the troops from the 
ships ^ and, on a signal given, all moved towards the 
shore, preceded by, a shallop bearing the sacred ori- 
flamme.* The king's barge was among the first thai 

f * The oriflamme, or national standard of France, was orrglh- 
ally a lance or long spear of gilded copper, with a flag of red 
silk attached to it. During peace it was lodged in the church 
of St. Dennis, whence, on the march of ihe army on great occa- 
sions, it was taken by the king with much religious solemnity. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 61 

grounded ; he instantly leaped, neck high, into the 
water, and was followed by his principal knights, 
amid a shov/er of missile weapons from the enemy. 
They had scarcely secured a footing, when they pre- 
sented an impenetrable mass of spears; the Egyp- 
tians fled, and Damietta was taken. Pursuing their 
victories, howevei^ with more rashness than caution, 
Louis and his array were forced to surrender at dis- 
cretion, and were of course treated with great cruel- 
ly ; many thousands of the French being massacred 
in cold blood. 

The sultan having agreed to ransom the monarch 
and his people for 500,000 livres, besides the surren- 
der of Damietta, the terms were accepted by Louis, 
and confirmed by the oaths of both parties. The 
sultan subsequently observed 4,hat the king of France 
was Frank indeed, and had not higgled for a smaller 
sum ; adding, " Go tell him that I hereby remit him 
100,000 livres of my demand, as a reward for his 
liberality." 

Louis the Ninth died a. d. 1270, and was succeed- 
ed by 

PHILIP THE THIRD, SURNABIED THE HARDY, 

Who, soon after he ascended the throne, had to en- 
counter domestic troubles. Having married a second 
wife, Mary, sister to the duke of Brabant, she ac- 
quired considerable influence over him, and was con- 
sequently dislilied by his former favourites. One of 
6 



62 BEAUTIES OP 

them, La Brosse, the king's chief barber and surgeon 
(two professions then generally united), sought to ef- 
fect her destruction by insinuating that she had poi- 
soned a daughter of Philip by his first wife. The 
unhappy and calumniated lady narrowly escaped 
being burnt to death. Her brother undertook her 
defence by duel, but the slanderer absconded. Yet 
such were the rumours over the kingdom, and such 
the king^s perplexity, that he employed two prelates 
to consult a famous Pythoness, or witch, of those 
times. The report of the oracle was favourable to 
the queen ; and the barber was shortly afterwards 
taken and hanged. 

Philip the Third died in 1285, and the throne was 
inherited by his son, 

PHTLir THE FOURTH (tHE FAIR% 

About four years after he began his reign, a war 
broke out between England and France, originating, 
it is said, in a scuffle between two sailors. A Nor- 
man and an English ship sending their boats at the 
same time for fresh water to a spring near Bayonne, 
the men quarrelled about precedency, and in a strug- 
gle, one of the former nation was slain. The Nor- 
mans complained to the French king, and demanded 
redress. In reply, they were told to take it them- 
selves. The hint was sufficient. They seized the 
first British ship they met, and hung several of the 
crew, widi some dogs, at the vard-arm. The English 



FRENCH HISTORY. 63 

retaliated severely ; and the ocean became the daily- 
scene of violence and barbarity. At length a fleet of 
200 Norman vessels were encountered by sixty Bri- 
tish ships of war, which took or sunk the greater 
number of them ; and as no quarter was given on 
either side, 15,000 Frenchmen perished. The war, 
however, for a time deprived the English of the pro- 
vince of Guienne! 

Philip died in 1314: his son, Louis the Tenth, 
called Hutin, or the Quarrelsome, succeeded ; and by 
his death, without issue male, in 1316, the crown was 
inherited by his brother. 

PHILIP THE FIFTH, OR (tHE TALl). 

His reign is chiefly remarkable for the severe edicts 
that were issued against the Jews of the French' do- 
minions. Laws were passed which declared it cri- 
minal to favour or protect them ; and they were taken 
and hanged in companies wherever they could be 
found. Forty of them being imprisoned at Vitri, and 
having little hope of escape or liberation, resolved to 
perish by each other's hands, rather than continue in 
the power of their common enemies, the Christians. 
They prevailed on the oldest, with the assistance of 
the youngest, to be their executioners. These two 
finally contended which should die first, and the 
young man was with much difficulty persuaded to be 
the survivor : he then collected their treasure, and, 
having made a cord, let himself down from the win- 



64 BEAUTIES OF 

dow; it was too short; he allowed himself to drop, 
and in the fall his leg was broken : he was taken, and 
hanged. 

Philip the Fifth died a. d. 1322, and was succeed- 
ed by his brother, 

CHARLES THE FOURTH (tHE HANDSOMe), 

Who, dying in 1328, without male issue, the direct 
line from Hugh Capet failed, and the throne descend- 
ed' to a member of the race of Valois. 



THE RACE OF VALOIS. 



PHILIP THE SI:STH. 

Philip was consin-german to Charles the Fourth, 
being the son of Charles de Valois, brother to Philip 
the Fair. The English king, Edward the Third, as he 
was descended in a more direct line from this latter 
monarch, although by a female branch, laid claim to 
the crown of France. His claim was, however, reject- 
ed by the French Court of Peers, and the coronation 
of Philip almost immediately followed. The French 
king, with a view to put an end at once to the hopes 
of the English monarch, summoned him to do hora- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 65 

age as his vassal for the province of Guienne. The 
indignant Edward refused an interview to the ambas- 
sadors, but sent them a sarcastic message, — that it 
was too much to expect the son of a king to pay ho- 
mage to the son of a count. Edward, however, upon 
reflection, was induced to submit ; but the passion 
that was suppressed, soon afterwards broke forth with 
double violence ; and in the year 1340, having first 
gained a decisive victory at sea, he landed in France 
at the head of a large army ; but, from a variety of 
causes, the war was postponed until 1 346, a period 
rendered famous in the annals of Great Britain by the 
battle of Crecy. 

Between the years 1340 and 1346, however, the 
English army and their allies had successively gained 
and lost many towns and fortresses, Hennebone — 
one of the strongest in Brittany, was remarkable for 
the brave and prolonged defence of its garrison, 
headed by a woman, against the army of Philip's 
nephew, Charles. Jane, Countess of Montfort, after 
having seen her husband taken prisoner, had, with 
her infant son, fixed her residence at Hennebone, and 
there awaited the interference of Edward, in her 
behalf. 

Clad in complete aimour, she appeared among the 
foremost in every military operation either of attack 
or defence. Observing on one occasion, the enemy 
engaged so keenly in one quarter as totally to ne- 
glect another, she sprung on horseback, and sallying 
6* 



66 ' BEAUTIES OP 

out unperceived by the besiegers, with two hundred 
horsemen, fell like lightning on their camp, and 
burned their tents and magazines. The conflagration 
alarming the besiegers, they intercepted her retreat ; 
but, with great presence of mind, she ordered her 
men to disperse and every one to consult his own 
safety. Five days afterwards she met them again at 
a place of rendezvous, and having received a rein- 
forcement of 500 horse, returned in triumph through 
the midst of the enemy, and again entered Henne- 
bon-^. The garrison, animated by her example, held 
out to the last extremity, but were at length on the 
point of surrendering — she alone opposing the reso- 
lution that famine and danger had induced them to 
form, and a treaty of surrender being in process of- 
signature by the chief officers, — when the countess^ 
ever on the watch, espied the English fleet. " Cou- 
rage," she cried, " courage yet, my friends ; no capi- 
tulation ; the English are at hand." The town was 
relieved. 

On the 25th August, 1346, was fought the "ever- 
memorable battle of Crecy — the circumstances con- 
nected with which must be familiar to every English 
reader. The Prince of Wales — afterwards Edward 
the Black Prince — contributed greatly by his valour 
to secure the victory. Although but fifteen years of 
age, he gave abundant proof that he merited the 
honour of knighthood which his father had recently- 
bestowed upon him. While hotly engaged with 



FRENCH HISTORY. 67 

some French cavalry, a messenger was despatched 
to the king, by the Earl of Warwick, entreating 
him to send succour to the prince. Edward, how- 
ever, who had surveyed from the top of a hill the 
gallant bearing of his eldest boy, returned this 
answer : " Go back to my son, and tell him and his 
fellow-warriors, that I will not interpose to take from 
them the honour of repelling the enemy ; which they 
can do without my asf istance." Edward triumphed ; 
and when the battle was over, was embraced by his 
father, who proudly said, " My brave son ! persevere 
in your honourable career •, for valiantly have you 
borne yourself to day. You have shown yourself 
worthy of an empire." The blind King of Bohemia 
was found among the slain : his crest was three 
ostrich feathers ; and his motto these German words, 
IcH DiEN, I serve, which the Prince of Wales adopted 
in memorial of the great victory; and which the 
eldest sons of the British kings have ever since re- 
tained. 

Philip fled from the fatal field, and about midnight 
reached the castle of Braye. On being asked by the 
governor before he admitted him, " Who is without?" 
" Open," he replied ; " it is the fortune of France." 
Shortly afterwards Calais was invested, but it cost 
Edward a twelvemonth's siege, being gallantly de- 
fended by its governor, John of Vienne. At length the 
knight, compelled by famine to surrender, appeared 
on the walls, and made a sign to the English senti- 



05 BEAUTIES OF 

nels that he desired a parley. Sir Walter Manny- 
was sent to him by Edward : " Brave knight," cried 
the Governor, " I have been intrusted by my sove- 
reign with the command of this town ; and I have 
endeavoured to do my^duty. But we are perishing 
of hunger. 1 am willing, therefore, to yield ; and 
desire only to ensure the lives of the brave men who 
have so long shared with me every danger and fa- 
tigue." Edward, however, who w^as exceedingly dis- 
pleased at the pertinacious resistance of the people 
of Calais, would promise no terms ; and insisted that 
six of the principal inhabitants should come to his 
camp, bareheaded and barefoot, and with ropes round 
• their necks, to be dealt with as he should think pro- 
per — on these conditions he promised to spare the 
lives of the remainder. While the afflicted citizens 
deliberated as to what course they should pursue, one 
of them, Eustache de St. Pierre, stepped forward, and 
was followed by five others, who volunteered them- 
selves to save the city. The lives of these heroic 
men were preserved by the intercession of Edward's 
Queen and the Prince of Wales. The king intrusted 
Calais to a traitor of Italian birth — Aimery de Pavie, 
who agreed to sell his trust for a sum of gold ; but 
Edward, having discovered his treachery in time to 
prevent its effects, consented to pardon him on con- 
dition that he would turn the contrivance to the ruin 
of the enemy. A day was therefore appointed for 
thjir admission, and Edward secretly departed from 



FRENCH HISTORY. 69 

London, disguised as a private soldier, under the 
standard of Sir Walter Manny. The French were 
received within the walls, and the greater number 
immediately slain. Among them the king observed 
a knight fighting gallantly, and challenged him to 
single combat. They began a sharp and perilous 
encounter-, but at length the knight seeing himself 
deserted by his companions, called out to his anta- 
gonist, "Sir knight, J yield myself your prisoner." 
After the battle, the king made himself known to his 
opponent, presented to him a string of pearls, and 
restored him to freedom, without ransom. v: 

The title of " Dauphin," which is given to th© 
eldest son of the French king, was iirst assumed du- 
ring this reign. Humbert the Second, Dauphin of 
Vienne, being inconsolable for the loss of his only 
son, who had fallen from his nurse's arms, out of a 
window, retired to a monastery and left his estates to 
Philip's son, on condition that he should take the 
name of Dauphin, and quarter the arms of Dauphiny 
with those of France, 

Philip died a. d. 1350, and was succeeded by his 
son, 

JOHxN THE SECOND. 

The first John, a posthumous son of Louis the 
Tenth, lived but a few days, and his name is gene- 
rally omitted by the French historians in the list of 
their kings. John the Second, surnamed the Good, 



70 BEAUTIES OP 

was upwards of forty years old when he ascended 
the throne. 

During his reign the battle of Poitiers was fought 
(1355); where the Prince of Wales commanded the 
English forces, and increased the reputation he had 
gained at Crecy. The French king was vanquished 
and taken prisoner. His army fell helpless around 
him; but he stood firm as a rock lashed by the 
billows, and hewed down his foes, one by one, as 
they advanced to seize his person. At length, ex- 
hausted by his exertions, but still unwilling to sur- 
render to an inferior, he cried out, " Where is my 
cousin, the Prince of Wales .?" Being assured that 
he was at a distance, he threw dow'n his gauntlet be- 
fore a knight of Arras, Denis de Morbec, saying, 
"then, Sir, I yield myself to you." The young 
prince afterwards behaved so generously to the lallen 
king, that upon one occasion John shed tears as he 
thanked his conqueror. The captive was conducted 
to England, and landed at Southwark ; where he was 
met by a great concourse of people, of all ranks and 
stations. He was clad in royal apparel, and mounted 
on a white steed of great si2e and beauty. The 
Prince Edward rode by his side upon a black horse, 
and in meaner attire. They were received by the 
English king and his son, with pride, delight, and 
affection, and the humbled monarch was treated by 
them in a manner that deprived captivity of more 
than half the venom of its sting. 



JS-RENCH HISTORY. 71 

John was afterwards ransomed by his subjects, for 
a sum amounting to about ^1,500,000 of our present 
money. To facilitate the treaty by which he ob- 
tained his freedom, he again visited England (in con- 
sequence of the inability of the French nation to 
furnish so large a sum,) and lodged in the Savoy 
Palace : he was received with courtesy and honour 
by Edward ; but had not been long in England be- 
fore he was taken ill, and died a. d. 1364. 

While John was in London the second time, the 
kings of Scotland and Cyprus w^re also in the city; 
and it is mentioned as the greatest honour ever en- 
joyed by a subject, that the Lord Mayor, a wine 
merchant, gave an elegant entertainment at once to 
four monarchs. 

An account of the ceremonies that were observed 
in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, at the 
coronation of the kings of France, in the church of 
Rheims, will, we have no doubt, be highly interesting 
to our juvenile readers; we therefore give the fol- 
lowing sketch of them : 

His majesty spent the night, or a considerable part 
of it, in devotion, privately, in the church. Early 
next morning, being Sabbath day, at the ringing of 
the bell, the king's guards took possession of the 
principal gate of the cliurch, and the canons and 
clergy their several stations within it. After the 
morning service, the king entered, with the arch- 
bishops, bishops, barons, Stc, who sat down, ac- 



72 BEAUTIES OF 

cording to their rank, on seats prepared for them, 
around the altar. Meantime, a deputation of the 
most noble and potent barons, chosen by the king^ 
was sent by him to the church of St. Remi, for the 
sacred oil ; which they pledged their word of honour 
they would carefully and reverently return to the 
abbot. The sacred phial, encased in gold, was then 
carried under a rich canopy of silk by the abbot and 
monks, in solemn procession. On their arrival at 
the great gate of the .church of St. Denis, they were 
met by the archbishops, bishops, barons, &c., who 
again engaged solemnly to restore the bottle, which 
was now conducted by the abbot and monks to the 
altar. The archbishop having assumed his appro- 
priate dress, began high mass, and the king stood up. 
This being done, the archbishop, in his own name, 
and in that of all the churches and clergy of France, 
addressed him, and presented the following claim: 

'" We beseech and entreat you promise to us, that 
you will preserve to us, and to the churches com- 
mitted to our care, our canonical privileges, laws, 
and constitution, and that you will defend us and 
our rights, as it becomes every king in this king- 
dom." To which the king replied, " I do promise 
and engage, that I will maintain to each of you, and 
to the churches intrusted to your care, your privileges 
and laws ; and that as far as may be in my power, I 
will defend you, as becomes a king within this king- 
dom." 



FRENCH HISTORY. 73> 

The following oath was also administered to him: 
" I promise, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, to 
those subjected to my dominion, that I will cherish 
and preserve always the whole Christian people, and 
the true peace of the church; that I will suppress all 
kinds of injustice, violence, and rapine ; that I will 
at all times exercise justice and mercy in judgmentj 
as I hope that God will show mercy to me and my 
people ; and that I will faithfully and zealously do 
my endeavour to expel heretics out of the kingdom." 
Which he confirmed by solemnly laying his hand oa 
the Bible. 

"Te Deum," was now performed, while the arch- 
bishops, &c., led the king forward to the altar, ai 
which he kneeled till the hymn was finished, and on 
which were laid the royal crown, the sword uii- 
sheathed, the golden spurs and sceptre, a rod of about 
a cubit long with an ivory handle, sandals richly 
ornamented, blue silk vests, coat, and royal cloak, all 
of which had been brought from the monastery of St. 
Denis. The grand chamberlain assisted in putting 
on the royal habit and sandals ; the Duke of Bur- 
gundy buckled on the golden spurs, and again im- 
mediately removed them : the archbishop girt on the 
sword, and presently ungirding it, drew it from the 
scabbard, and delivered it into the hand of the king, 
addressing him in these words : " Take the sword 
which I now present to you, With the blessing of 
God, by which, with the grace &f the Holy Ghost, 
7 



74 BEAUTIES OF 

may you be able to resist and repel all the enemies 
and adversaries of the church, defend the kingdom 
committed to you, and promote the glory of God^ 
through Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, who reigns 
with the Father !" &c. 

This was followed by a suitable hymn and prayer, 
at the conclusion of which the king took the sword, 
and delivered it to the custody of the liigh constable, 
or, in his absence, to any of the barons whom he 
had appointed for the occaf?ion lo take charge of it, 
and bear it before him in procession when he retired 
from the church. The archbishop then proceeded 
to the ceremony of unction and consecration. The 
chrism being laid in the sacred patina on the altar, 
he took a little of the holy oil out of the phial of 
Bheims with a golden twig, and reverently mixed it 
"with the chrism. The royal robe was loosened and 
folded down ofT the shoulders ; the king kneeled 'y 
the litany was read ; the bishops offered up three 
several appropriate prayers ; and tlie archbishop then 
pronounced that of the consecration. 

The prayer being ended, the archbishop took the 
chrism mixed with the oil of the sacred phial, and 
anointed the king on the head, the breast, the back, 
the shoulders, and arms, saying at each, " I anoint 
thee with the holy oil, in the name of the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost." These actions were followed 
by a hymn and prayers. 

The royal robe was now replaced and fastened 



FREXCH HISTORY. ^ 

with a clasp, -and a ring put on the king's fingi^r by 
4he archbishop, who said, " Receive this ring, the 
symbol of faith, power, union, and iiappiness; the 
pledge of your fidelity in defending the churclj and 
subduing her enemies." The sceptre was next placed 
in his right hand, and the rod of justice in his left, 
accompanied by suitable addresses. The high chan- 
cellor then, or in his absence the archbishop^ called by 
nam.e, first the lay and next the ecclesiastical peers, 
who, standing around the royal person, assisted the 
archbishop in placing the crown on his head, and 
continued to support it, while the prelate repealed, 
** May God crown you with glory, honour, righleous- 
jiess and constancy, that through our prayers, a sound 
faith, and its fruits abounding in good works, you 
may obtain the inheritance of an everlasting king- 
<]om !" This was again followed by three prayers, 
an address, and a concluding prayer, on the king's 
l)eing conducted by the peers to a throne prepared 
for his reception. 

The archbishop then, having laid aside his mitre, 
Fainted iiim, and proclaimed, " Long live the kingP*^ 
The peers each did the same, and the words resounded 
through the assembly. The book of theGosp*^! was 
presented to him, which he kissed; high mass was 
■performed, and he received the sacrament; an offer- 
ing was made by him of a vessel of wine and three 
pieces of gold ; the Gospel was recited while the 
crown was laid aside, and the king descended from 



•76 BEAUTIES OF 

l6ie throne ; a smaller crown was put on his head, 
end, the constable bearing the sword before him, the 
procession returned to the palace. 

CHARLES THE FIFTH, 

Succeeded his father John ; he was almost the first 
king in Europe who did not think it incumbent upon 
him to appear personally at the head of his armies, 
or to hazard his person equally with the lowest 
soldier. He hoped to effect more by foresiglit, policy, 
and judgment, than his predecessors had done by the 
strength of their arms, or the force of their valour; 
and he was in a great measure successful. " No 
king," said Edward, his great antagonist, " ever less 
handled his sword ; and none ever occasioned to his 
adversaries so much embarrassment."* 

* In this reign the whims of the court became matters of great 
weight and importance; among others were introduced the 
fashionable shoes, called alter the name of the inventor a la 
JPoulaine. They were turned up before with a long point pro- 
portioned to the person's rank, from half a foot to a foot, and 
even two feet long, somewhat resembling a cow's horn, and 
were actually tipped with horn; they were also sometimoa 
branched ; and the more ridiculous they appeared, the more 
stylish were they, as usual, considered. The clergy declaimed 
against this fashion as unnaiural and disgraceful; and it was 
the subject of a grave discussion before two ecclesiastical 
councils of Paris, in 1312, and Antwerp, in 1365 ; by both of 
which it was condemned ; but it was not abolished till the civil 
government prohibited it, in 1368, by a fine of ten florins for 
every transgression. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 77 

In a battle between the French and Normans, in 
1364, the French army was commanded by Bertrand 
du Guesclin, one of the best and bravest knights of 
France. 'J'he Norman Captal de Biich, also pos- 
sessed a high reputation. They met near Cocherel, 
on tlie banks of the Eure. The Captal placed his 
standard on a thorn-bush, in front of his army, as 
a challenge to provoke his adversary to begin. 
Neither party, however, was willing to quit the post 
that each advantageously occupied. At length Du 
■Guesclin feigned a retreat; when a valiant Norman 
officer, John Jouel, impatient for the fight, exclaimed, 
*^ Quick, quick, let us descend; the French are 
flying!" The Captal cautioned him, but the impe- 
tuous soldier called aloud^ " follow me who loves 
me ; I am determined to fight !" and so ran on with 
11 body of troops after him. As soon as they had 
left their trenches, the French rapidly formed and 
charged them ; Jouel saw his error, but fought bravely v 
many fell, and many were disarmed and taken. The 
standard of De Buch, which had been so vauntingly 
displayed, became the main object of attack and de- 
fence. Thirty valiant knights resolved to seize it; 
and as many on the other side swore it should be 
preserved. The French, after a bloody and obstinate 
struggle, succeeded. Jouel, wh<^ was the cause of 
the failure of his parly, disdained to flee; he was 
covered with wounds from head to foot ; yet stood 
and fought till he fell dead. De Buch pausing in 
7* 



fS BEAUTIES OF 

the midst of the struggle, looked round and beheld 
all his friends either slaughtered or captured, asked 
for Du Guesclin, and yielded himself prisoner. 

Charles the Fifth, whose uniform and systematic 
conduct as a politician and a sovereign in a ferocious 
age, procured him the epithet of " the Wise," died 
in ISiSO, and left the throne to his son, 

CHARLES THE SIXTH. 

In the year 1392 this king betrayed symptoms of 
insanity, and during a march at the head of his army, 
for the purpose of bringing the duke of Brittany under 
fiubjection, the dreadful malady broke forth. He was 
riding through the forest of Mans, when a tall, half- 
naked man, black and hideous, rushed from among 
the trees, rudely seized the bridle of his horse, and 
exclaimed — " King, ride no farther, but return ; you 
are betrayed!" — then instantly disappeared. The 
king, in dreadful alarm, passed on. Two pages rode 
behind him ; the one bore a polished helmet, the 
other a spear. The latter having become sleepy by 
the heat of the day, let fall his weapon, which struck 
against the steel helmet of his comrade. Charles, 
who was brot)ding over the warning of the strange 
figure, was totally unhinged by the sudden noise near 
him, and supposing it to be the attack of his enemy, 
turned, drew his sword, put spurs to his horse, and 
furiously assaulted all who came in his way : several 
were killed and wounded : but at length a Normaa 



FRENCH HISTORY. 79 

knight sprang up behind the king, pinioned him, and 
kept him thus until he was disarmed. They laid 
him on the ground, perfectly exhausted and speech- 
less. 

In the year 1415, Henry the Fifth of England in- 
vaded France, at the head of a numerous and brave 
army, and on the 25lh of October the battle of Agin- 
court was fought. The French, who were vastly 
superior in numbers, commenced the attack; their 
archers on horseback, and their men at arms, advan- 
ced upon the archers of England, who had fixed pali- 
sades in their front to break the assault of the enemy, 
and from behind that defence plied their foes with a 
shower of arrows which nothing could resist. Tiie 
whole French army shortly exhibited a scene of con- 
fusion and dismay, and the English fell upon them 
with their battle-axes, and hewed them to pieces al- 
most without resistance. The mass of prisoners was 
so great as to encumber the victors; and an alarm 
being spread that they were attacked in the rear, 
Henry gave orders that all the captives should be put 
to death. The mistake was soon discovered, and 
the mandate countermanded ; but unhappily it added 
many to the number of the slain. The French lost 
10,000 killed and 14,000 prisoners ; among the former 
were their commanders, the Dukes of Brabant and 
Alen^on, and a host of nobles and knights. The losas 
of the English was not great ; and has been variously 
estimated at from forty persons to one thousand six 



^80 BEAUTIES or 

hundred : the Duke of York was the only man of 
rank who fell. In consequence of this victory the 
English obtained and held possession of many im- 
portant towns and fortresses in France. 

In 1422, Charles the Sixth died, and the kingdom 
was inherited by his son, 

CHARLES THE SEVENTH, 

-Surnamed " the Victorions." During the first six 
years of his reign the English arms in France were 
■almost uniformly successful ; and the young king was 
.reduced almost to a state of penury. Nor was he 
previously very fortunate, for shortly before he ob- 
tained the crown, he had been forced to supply his 
table even by the sale of his wife's jewels. His little 
court was torn by intestine factions; the English, 
under the command of .John, Duke of Bedford, uncle 
to Henry the Sixth, were proceeding to lay siege to 
Orleans; and the ruin of Charles appeared inevitable, 
when an occurrence, the most singular in the records 
of history, turned the scale in his favour, and restored 
him in power to the throne of his ancestors. 

The fortitude, courage, perseverance, and cruel 
death of the Maid of Orleans form one of the most 
romantic and interesting portions of French history ;" 
her spirit and good fortune may with propriety be 
fCalled marvellous; since, informed as we happily 
iare, we cannot deem it, as in her own time it was 
siniversaliy deemed, miraculous. Joan d'Arc a native 



FRENCH HISTORY. 81 

of Droimy, near Vaucouleurs, on the Meuse, was a 
country-girl somewhat above twenty years of a^e, 
handsome and lively, and of irreproachable conduct. 
She had been early accustomed to the management 
of horses, and rode with grace and ease, having filled 
the humble situation of maid in the inn of her native 
village ; where she had frequent opportunities of hear- 
ing discussed the calamities and misery the lower or- 
ders were suffering, the deplorable state of the coun- 
try, and the peculiar character of Charles — one so 
fitrcngly inclined to friendship and affection — which 
naturally rendered him the hero of that sex whose 
generous minds place little bounds to their enthu- 
siasm. These discussions warmed the maiden's ima- 
gination, rendered her indignant against the English, 
and inspired her with the noble resolution of delivering 
her country from its enemies. 

She went therefore to Vaucouleurs, obtained ad- 
mittance to Baudricourt, the governor, and assured 
him that she had seen visions, and heard voices ex- 
horting her to re-establish the throne of France. An 
uncommon intrepidity of soul made her overlook all 
the dangers which might attend her in such a design; 
and the village-girl burst forth at once into tlie fear- 
less heroine. Doubtless her inexperienced mind mis* 
took the impulses of passion for heavenly inspiration, 
for no one act of Joan d'Arc leads to the belief that 
she ever contemplated imposition. The governor of 
Vaucouleurs treated her at first with neglect; but after 



S2 BEAUTIES OP 

a time, wisely considering that in the present state 
of affairs, advantage might be taken of her enthusiasm, 
he entered into her views, and sent her, with proper 
attendants and a recommendation to the king, who 
was then residing at Chinon. 

The age was one of ahiiost unbounded credulity, 
and it was the interest of the king and his friends, 
when accepting her services, to persuade the people 
she was sent by God. She resided tv\'o months at 
Chinon, and the priesthood confirmed the rumor of 
her being an inspired person. It is but fair to suppose 
that all were disposed to believe what they so ardent- 
ly wished. Joan, armed cap-d-pee^ and mounted on 
horseback, was triumphantly presented to the people 
as tlie messenger of Heaven, and began her martial 
Aransactions by escorting a large convoy for the sup- 
ply of Orleans, as the English were then besieging 
iiiat city. Slie ordered the soldiers to confess them- 
selves before they set out on their enterprise; banished 
from the camp all dissolute characters ; and carried in 
her own hand a consecrated banner, on which the 
Supreme Being was represented grasping the globe 
of earth, and surrounded whhjleiirs-de-lis. The maid 
wrote to the commanders of the English troops desir- 
ing them, in the name of the Omnipotent Creator, to 
raise the siege and evacuate France, and menaced them 
with divine vengeance in case of their disobedience. 
The English affected to deride her and her heavenly 
^commission, but their imaginations were secretly af- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 83 

fected by the strong feeling that prevailed in all around 
them; and they waited with anxious expectation for 
the issue of these extraordinary proceedings. Strange 
it was, but no less true, that provisions were safely 
and peaceably permitted to enter the city; and Joan 
•was received as a celestial deliverer by all the inha- 
bitants, v/ho now believed themselves invincible under 
her influence. An alteration of affairs was visible to 
the whole civilized world, whose attention was fixed 
upon the war between two such nations; and the 
sudden change had a proportionate effect on the minds 
of both parties. The spirit resulting from a long 
course of uninterrupted good fortune, was rapidly 
transferred from the victors to the vanquished. The 
Maid cried aloud for an immediate sally cf the garrison, 
lier ardour roused to exertion — she attacked and con- 
quered. Nothing, after this success, seemed impos- 
sible to her votaries ; she declared that within a little 
time the English would be entirely driven fi'om their 
entrenchments, and was herself foremost in the battle, 
animating and exhorting hej||^ troops. Nor was her 
bravery more singular than her presence of mind : in 
one attack she was wounded by an arrow in the neck; 
she pulled the weapon out with her own hands, had 
the wound quickly dressed, and hastened back to head 
tlie troops and plant her victorious banner on the 
ramparts of the adversary. The English no hunger 
denied that Joan was inspired, but they declared she 
M'as possessed of an evil, not a good spirit. Whether 



84 BEAUTIES OF 

^' The Maid of Orleans''^ (an appellation given to her 
when she had finally succeeded in obliging the Eng- 
lish to raise a siege upon which so much money and 
so many valuable lives had been expended) really 
acted upon her own council or upon that of the 
French general, Dunois (as it was said), she is alike 
entitled to our praise and admiration ; for there is 
often as much wisdom shown in following, as in 
giving advice. And it must never be forgotten that, 
when necessary, she curbed her visionary temper and 
zeal by prudence and discretion. 

The Maid gave two promises to Charles ; one that 
sh.e would force the invaders to raise the siege of Or- 
leans ; the other, that she would see him crowned at 
Rheims. The former having been kept, the latte?. re- 
mained to be fulfdled. The king joine^ his victo- 
rious people, and, accompanied by her who might 
be truly termed his guardian angel, set out for that 
ancient city. Such was the universal panic, that he 
hardly perceived he was marching through an ene- 
my's country. When h#arrived at Rheims, he was 
there joined by the dukes of Lorraine and Bar; and 
next day, the 17th of July, 1429, his coronation was 
performed with the holy oil, to which we have els&- 
where referred, and which, it was said, a pigeon had 
brought to king Clovis from heaven, on the first esta- 
blishment of the French monarchy. The Maid of 
Orleans stood by his side in complete armour, dis- 
playing that sacred banner with which she had so 



FRENCH HISTORY. 85 

often animated his troops and dismayed his enemies. 
When the impressive ceremony was concluded, she 
threw herself at the monarch's feet, and shed a flood 
of exulting and tender tears. " At last," she ex- 
claimed, " my dear sovereign, the will of God is ful- 
filled ; in this happy event he hath shown that you 
me he to whom this kingdom doth indeed belong.** 
It is impossible to imagine one more devoid of per- 
sonal ambition than Joan d'Arc. It is true, thai 
Charles ennobled her family, and exempted her na- 
tive village from taxation ; but, having fulfilled the 
professed end of her mission, she earnestly solicited 
the favour of being permitted to return to her home 
and tranquillity. 

When the indelible stain made by her death on the 
page of English history is remembered, it will be 
deeply regretted that Charles refused her request 
Finding that her services were again required, she 
threw herself into Compiegne, then besieged by the 
English, and made many successful sallies against 
the assailants ; but being deserted by her party on 
one occasion, she was pulled from her horse and 
taken prisoner by one Lionel de Vendome, an officer 
of the Burgundian array. It is hardly to be credited, 
lliat a king whom she had crowned, a people whom 
she had saved, should have made no effort to recover 
their preserver from her bitter enemies. Yet they 
left the intrepid girl to the cruel vengeance of her 
foes ; and the duke of Burgundy purchased, for the 
8 



S6 BEAUTIES OP 

sum of ten thousand pounds sterling, the casket that 
contained the soul of Joan of Arc. She was carried 
to Rouen, loaded with irons, and sumnrioned to ap- 
pear before a tribunal formed of persons interested in 
her destruction. Nothing could exceed the intrepidi- 
ty of her conduct, or the coolness of her replies: 
they could not try her as a prisoner of war ; and so, 
for a period of four montlis, they harassed her with 
religious interrogatories. During the whole time, she 
never betrayed any weakness or womanish submis- 
sion, and no advantage was gained over her. Fler 
answers to the various questions proposed to her are 
too long for insertion here, but they must ever prove 
highly interesting to the lovers of true heroism. In 
the issue she was found guilty of all the crimes im- 
puted to her — of being a sorceress, an idolater, a 
witch, and a heretic. But the chief pan of her ac^ 
cusation was wearing man's apparel : and she waa 
finally sentenced to be delivered over to the secula? 
arm. it was hardly to be expected but that, sooner 
or later, the weakness of the woman would triumph 
over the fortitude of the heroine. Brow-beaten by 
men invested with the appearance of holiness, her 
spirit was subdued ; the visionary dream of inspira- 
tion with which she had been buoyed up by the ap- 
plause of her party, as well as by continual success, 
faded before the punishment to which she was con- 
demned. She confessed her willingness to recantj 
acknowledged the illusion of those revelations whichc 



FRENCH HISTORY. 87 

tlie church had rejected, and promised nevermore to 
mention them: her sentence was then, as they termed 
it, " mitigated." She was doomed to perpetual im- 
prisonment, and to be fed during life upon bread and 
water. But the vengeance of the mai(!en''s enemies 
M'as not yet appeased. Suspecting that the female 
dress had been rendered uncomfortable by liabit, al- 
though she had consented to resume it, tliey pur- 
posely placed in her chamber a coat of armour, a4id 
meanly watched for the effects of the temptation. At 
the sight of a dress in which she had acquired so 
much renown, and which she had once believed she 
wore by the direct comm.and of Heaven, all lier 
former feelings and passions revived, and she ven- 
tured in her solitude to clothe herself again in the 
forbidden steel. Her base and contempiible foes sur- 
prised her in that condition ; the slight offence was 
interpreted into an heretical relapse, and she was 
doomed to be publicly burned in the market-place of 
Fouen (.June the 14th, 1431). "This admirable he- 
roine," says Hume, "to whom the more generous 
superstition of the ancients would have erected al- 
tars, was, on pretence of heresy and magic, delivered 
over alive to the flames, and expiated by that dread- 
ful punishment the signal services she had rendered 
to her prince and her native country." The English 
king, Henry, was at Rouen at the time of this autho- 
rized murder; and there is still extant a very curious 
le^r from him to his uncle, the duke of Bedford, oii 



88 BEAUTIES OF 

the death of Joan, which he terms the " extirpation 
of a pestilential error." 

The effects of her influence, however, was felt 
long after her death ; and although by a kind of 
mock coronation, the young king of England re- 
ceived the crown of France at Rheims, it was mani- 
fest that the English power was rapidly declining in 
that country. 

After the siege of Orleans had been abandoned, the 
earl of Suffolk, who was taken prisoner fighting va- 
liantly, displayed, even during a moment of immi- 
nent peril, the chivalrous spirit of the times. He was 
about to surrender himself to William Renaud, but 
first asked him, " Are you a gentleman ?" " Yes." 
« But are you a knight ?" " No." " Then," said 
the earl, " I make you one ;" and having dubbed him 
on the field, retired in his custody. 

In consequence of the several victories that fol- 
lowed, nearly all the provinces and fortresses gar- 
risoned by England, yielded to the French; and the 
latter days of Charles the Seventh were passed in 
prosperity and popularity. He died in 1461, leaving 
behind him the highest reputation as a prince of ac- 
knowledged courage, justice, and discretion, and v/ell 
deserving the success that had attended his arms ; 
though it must be admitted, that the manner in which 
he left his deliverer, Joan d'Arc, to her fate, without 
attempting to save her, tarnishes, in some measme^ 
the splendour of his reign. His son, 



FBENCH HISTORY. 89 



LOUIS THE ELEVENTH, 

Succeeded his father, but he inherited none of his 
father's virtue?. He was thirty-eight years of age 
when he came to tiie throne : mean, selfish, regard- 
less of truth, and fawning to those who were neces- 
sary to him ; but negligent of those of whom he 
considered himself independent; yet possessing an 
insinuating address and great perseverance in attain- 
ing his object. When he gave offence by his words 
in conversation, he was ever ready to apologise. '' I 
am sensible," he would say, "' that my tongue is of- 
ten prejudicial to my interests." Still, no man ever 
had his speech or his temper more completely under 
control.* He is described by the historian as " uni- 
formly flagitious, and systematically bad." 

One of the most remarkable events of the early 
years of his reign, was his voluntarily placing him- 
self in the hands of his mortal enemy, Charles, duke 
of Burgundy, thinking to overreach that prince by his 
powers of persuasion ; but he suffered as the dupe of 
his vanity, and was confined a prisoner in the castle 
of Peronne, in Picardy. Comines, the historian of 
his time, describes minutely every circumstance con- 
nected with the extraordinary meeting of the rival 

* The character of this king, and portions of the history of 
his reign, have been made familiar to the English reader, by 
tlie Auihor of " Waverley," in his historical novel of *' Quen- 
<in Durward." 

8* 



do BEAUTIES OF 

potentates, and the subsequent imprisonment of the 
liing. He does not assert, that Charles had it in con- 
templation to put his royal prisoner to death; but he 
insinuates, that the king's terror of such an event was 
not without some foundation. The duke kept him 
three days in painful suspense ; but at length he was 
released, under conditions the most ignominious and 
humiliating. 

Charles was afterwards foully and treacherously 
murdered by Campo-basso, a Neapolitan, on whom 
he had conferred many favours. While besieging 
Nancy, in Lorraine, the Italian deserted, leaving 
twelve of his soldiers with orders to assassinate the 
duke. They executed the detestable commission too 
faithfully. It is said, that Campo-basso had previous- 
ly oflered to deliver up his master, alive or dead, ta 
Louis; but that even Louis abhorred so black a 
treachery, and sent intimation of it to Charles ; though 
the infaiijous opinion the duke entertained of Louis, 
induced him to neglect or despise the information. 
** If," said he, '*• it were true, the king would never 
have imparted to me so important a secret;" and he 
even redoubled his marks of confidence towards the 
perfidious Neapolitan. 

Wlien Louis drew near his last mom.ents^^.astened 
by three successive strokes of apoplexy — he present- 
ed one of the most awful pictures thpt the imagina- 
tion can conceive. The cruel are always cowards ; 
and the king shrunk with the natural terror of a 



FRENCH HISTORY. 91 

and wicked mind from the idea of death. He ex- 
hausted every power of medicine, devotion, artifice, 
to prolong his miserable existence. It has even been 
said, that a bath of infants' blood was prepared for 
liim, in the hope that it would cure the disease under 
"which he laboured. At length, it was considered ne- 
cessary to inform him that his end was rapidly ap- 
proaching; but as he had often warned his officers 
^ never to pronounce to him the fatal word — death, — . 
there was none willing to communicate the tidings, 
until his strength had failed him; and the fearful sen- 
tence was heard only when at his last gasp. 

He had been long separated from his queen, an 
excellent, though not beautiful woman ; but, what 
was of far higher importance in such a stale of so- 
ciety, she protected and aided the dissemination of 
literature in France. A characteristic anecdote is re- 
lated of her : — Passing accidentally through an apart- 
ment where Alain Chartier, the most brilliant genius, 
but the ugliest man of his age, lay asleep, she went 
up to him, and kissed him. Her ladies reproached 
her by their looks for this seeming violation of female 
modesty. " It was not the man," said she, " whom 
1 kissed, but the mouth whence have proceeded so 
many elcv£i,ed sentiments." 

It is asserted that the physician of Louis, James 
Coctier, treated his master with great insolence, and 
extorted from him immense sums of mol^ey. But he 
owed his life to Louis's superstition jito& informed 



^ BEAUTIES OP 

him, that the existence of the king must inevitably 
terminate within eight days of the death of his phy- 
sician. 

Louis died a. d. 1483, and the crown descended 
to his son, 

CHARLES THE EIGHTH. 

The character of this king is given in a few words 
by the historian Coraines : — '•' He was the most affable 
and sweetest-natured prince in the world. I verily 
believe he never said a word to any man that could 
in reason displease him." He died of apoplexy in 
1498, and with him ended the direct line of Valois; 
Louis duke of Orleans, who succeeded him in the 
throne, being of a collateral branch. 

LOUIS THE TWELFTH, 

Almost immediately after his coronation, gave a proof 
of temperance and generosity. When advised by 
his courtiers to punish those who had been his ene- 
mies during the preceding reign, he made this glo- 
rious reply, " It becomes not a King of France to 
revenge the quarrels of a duke of Orleans. 

Louis engaged in a protracted and unprofitable war 
with Pope Julius the Second. In this contest, a 
young hero, whose renown has descended to pos- 
terity, and formed the theme of many a poet's lay 
and romantic story, first made his appearance. 
Gaston de Foix was nephew to the king, and was 



FRENCH HISTORY. 93 

scarcely in his twenty-third year. The Italians re- 
garded him as a prodigy, and he was surnamed " the 
Thunderbolt of Italy," from the intrepidity of his 
exploits, the rapidity of his progress, and the sudden- 
ness of his extinction. 

At the battle of Ravenna he exerted all the qualities 
of an experienced and consummate general ; yet, like 
a young soldier, threw away his life at the moment 
of victory. The action had been completely gained, 
when the celebrated Chevalier Bayard, seeing Gaston 
de Foix covered with blood, rode up, and asked if 
he was wounded ?" No," he replied, " but I have 
wounded many of the enemy." Bayard implored 
him on no consideration to quit the main body of the 
army. This wholesome advice was unhappily ne- 
glected. A Gascon runaway having informed him, 
that a party of the enemy not only maintained their 
ground, but were gaining some advantage, he called 
out, *'\Yho loves me, follows me," and instantly 
charged them. They were, however, a body of ve- 
terans, who, lowering their pikes, coolly received the 
attack. Gaston''s horse was first killed, and himself 
overborne by numbers : he was bravely defended by 
his relative, Lautrec, who, when no longer able to 
ward off the blows aimed at him, eagerly exclaimed, 
"Spare him, spare him, and you shall liave immense 
ransom." The appeal was made in vain; the prince 
fell, covered with wounds ; and' the gallant Bayard 
was almost driven to madness, when riding np, he 



94 BEAUTIES O? 

found the young hero dead upon the field that had 
hsen won by his skill and courage. 

In 1514, Louis the Twelfth was married to the 
Princess Mary, sister to Henry the Eighth of Eng- 
land, a lady of exceeding beauty. But the marriage 
was one of mere state policy, for Louis was in t!ie 
decline of life, and Mary had already bestowed iier 
affsclions on Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who 
had bsen previously selected by Henry as his sister's 
husband. After the death of Louis, she became the 
wife of the duke, and was called the queen-duchess. 

Louis died on the 1st January, 1515. He was the 
most virtuous prince that had ever governed France. 
It was proclaimed in the hall of the palace, at his 
death, "Le bon Koi Louis douze, pere du peuple, est 
mort." The title was deserved, in him expired the 
elder branch of the House of Orleans, and that of 
Angouleme succeeded to the throne. 



FRANCIS THE FIRST 

Was but twenty-one years of age w^hen he becaras 
king of France. Nature had endowed him with the 
rarest and most estimable qualities of mind and per- 
son ; very handsome, well formed, active and expert 
in all the military as well as elegant exercises suited 



FRENCH HISTORY, 95 

to his age and rank, courteous in his manners, boun- 
teous even to prodigality, eloquent in the cabinet, 
brave and skilful in the field — he seemed formed to 
be the monarch of a great kingdom, and to rule over 
the hearts as well as the persons of his subjects. 

His first battle was fought against the Milanese. 
Francis showed the greatest intrepidity: when it was 
terminated, he laid himself down upon the carriage 
of a piece of artillery, and, like Darius after the com- 
bat of Arbela, is said to have drank with avidity a 
little water mixed with blood and dirt, brought to 
him in a helmet by one of his soldiers. The day 
was won by the French, after a tremendous struggle. 
A mareschal, who had been present at seventeen en- 
gagements, thus described it — " this is a contest of 
giants, but all the others were only children's play." 
When night separated the combatants, the king, sur- 
rounded by a few of his officers, lay down to sleep: 
presently he received information that they were only 
fifty paces from a large body of the enemy ; and that 
if discovered, they must inevitably be made prisoners. 
Uncertain in what way to proceed, the solitary torch 
was instandy extinguished, and Francis remained 
anxiously watching the first dawn of morn, which 
brought relief to the party by enabling them to join 
their companions in arms. 

The year 1520 was distinguished by the meeting 
of Francis and Henry the Eighth of England, at a 
point situated between tiie towns of ouisnes and Ar- 



96 BEAUTIES OF 

dres. " The Field of the Cloth of Gold^^ (as it was 
named from the extraordinary splendour by which it 
was distinguished, even at that period of luxury and 
display,) has formed a theme not unworthy of the 
pen of the historian, and a cherished subject for the 
poet and novelist. Francis, attended by the rank, 
beauty, and talent, that rendered his court the most 
refined of all his contemporaries, Tepaired to the 
town of Ardres; while Henry proceeded from Calais, 
with his queen and splendid retinue, to the frontier 
town of Guisnes. The field in which the rival but 
friendly monarchs first met was within the English 
pale; Francis, with his usual generosity, having paid 
this compliment to the British king, in consideration 
of his having crossed the sea to grace the ceremony 
by his presence. It has been said by some histori- 
ans, that the ambitious Cardinal Wolsey, as conduc- 
tor of these august ceremonies, contrived this matter 
to do honour to his master. Others affirm, that it 
was proposed, in the first instance, by the French 
king himself. 

The two monarchs received each other with much 
pomp, and many demonstrations of kindly feeling; 
and retired into a tent, prepared for their reception in 
the most costly manner, to a secret conference, where 
Henry proposed to amend the articles of their former 
alliance. As a preliminary, he commenced reading 
the treaty, the first words of which were — "/, Henry^ 
liingi^^ he paused a moment, and subjoined only the 



FRENCH HISTORY. 97 

words of England^ without adding France^ the cus- 
tomary title then adopted by the English monarchs. 
The propriety, courtesy, and delicacy of Henry was 
never forgotten by Francis. Nor was this generous 
king slow in returning the compliment ; full of ho- 
nour, incapable of jealousy or mistrust, he was natu- 
rally shocked at the precautions observed whenever 
a meeting took place between Henry and himself. 
The reckoning of guards and attendants on either 
side — the precision with which (in compliance with 
etiquette) every step was scrupulously measured and 
adjusted — Francis heartily disdained; for if the kings 
only designed to visit the queens, they left their re- 
spective quarters at the same time, which, we are told, 
was marked by the firing of a culverin — passed each 
other in the middle point between the towns, and 
the moment Henry entered Ardres, Francis placed 
himself in English hands at Guisnes. But the French 
monarch resolved to terminate this endless ceremo- 
nial ; and, accompanied by only two gentlemen and 
his page, rode gallantly into Guisnes, and cried aloud 
to the astonished guards, " You are all my prisoners! 
— carry me to your master." Henry was both sur- 
prised and charmed at the sudden appearance of his 
kingly brother, and, according to the fashion of the 
times, cordially embracing him, unclasped a pearl 
collar from his throat, and begged him to wear it for 
his sake. Francis graciously accepted the gift, on 
condition that Henry should wear a bracelet which 
9 



VO BEAUTIES OP 

lie fastened upon his arm, and which was of extra- 
ordinary beauty and value. Confidence was thus 
fidly established between these magnificent kings, 
and they employed the rest of their time in tourna- 
ments and festivals. A challenge had been sent out 
by the two princes to each other's court, and through 
the chief cities of Europe, importing, " that Francis 
and Henry, with fourteen aids, would be ready in the 
plains of I'icardy, to answer all comers, that were 
gentlemen, at tilt, tournament, and barriers." It was 
a brilliant and a glowing scene — and the historians 
love to dwell upon it — under the blue skies of France, 
to behold the tents, glittering in silk and gold, with 
their floating banners, gleaming in the sunny light^ — 
to hear the lone sound of the herald's trumpet — -and 
anon the harmony of many hundred instruments, pro- 
claim that the kings of France and England had en- 
tered the field of peaceful combat. Both sovereigns 
were gorgeously apparelled, and both the most come- 
ly personages of their age, as well as the most expert 
in every military exercise. They carried off the prize 
In all arduous and dangerous pastimes, and several 
were overthrown by their vigour and dexterity. La- 
dies of high raidi and surpassing beauty were the 
judges in their feats of chivalry, and put an end to 
the rencontres whenever they deemed it necessary. 
During a period of several days, the princes spent 
their lime in these enterlainmenls, until their tlepar- 
tuie- lor their respective capitals. The iuterviewj 



FRENCH HISTORY. 99 

however, had more of show than of substance, and 
%ras productive of no durable or solid friendship be- 
tween them — gorgeous and chivalric to the extreme, ii 
xvas nothing more. So profuse was the expenditure, 
and so costly the prepanitions that had been made, by 
the nobles of both England and France, that '^ many, 
I doubt not," says Du Belly, the historian, " carried 
thither on their shoulders their castles, forests, and 
lands." 

A singular accident befel Francis in January, 1521. 
The king, to amuse his leisure hours, attacked, in 
mimic batde, with a few gentlemen, the house of one 
of his counts — snowballs and similar missiles being 
used by the assailants. A person on the opposite side 
unfortunately threw a torch from a balcony, which 
struck the king on the hetd, and wounded him so 
severely that for several days his life was despaired 
of. It became necessary to cut off his liair, which 
he would never suffer to grow again, but introduced 
the fashion of wearing the beard long, and the hair 
short. 

The unhappy differences between Francis and 
Charles, Duke of Bourbon, the constable of France, 
produced a destructive war between the French mo- 
narch and the Emperor Charles the Fifth. The duke 
had unquestionably been treated with unmerited se- 
verity by his master — and his treason in joining the 
emperor admits of some palliation. That monarch 
confided his troops to the charge of his new ally ; those 



100 BEAUTIES OF 

of France were commanded by the Admiral Bonnivet; 
and under him served the brave and distinguished 
Chevalier Bayard. The two armies met at Romag- 
nano, and the admiral was beaten ; he placed himself, 
however, dming his retreat, at the head of the rear 
guard, as being the post of honour and of danger; nor 
did he quit this station until he received a severe 
wound from a musket-ball in the anm. He then called 
to Bayard, and said, "you see that I am in no fit state 
either to fight or to command. Extricate the army 
if it be possible; 1 commit it to your care." "It is 
too late," replied Bayard: "but no matter; my soul 
is my God's, and my life my country's." He executed 
the charge confided to him with that noble intrepidity 
which has immortalized his name; but he fell in the 
performance of his duty. He has been justly de- 
scribed as one of the most heroic and elevated spirits 
that ever flourished in the best ages of chivalry. 
Indeed the records of his exploits, his gallantry, his 
munificence, and his whole character, have more the 
air of romance than of sober history. The instances 
related of his humanity and beneficence, even to his 
enemies, would excite admiration and astonishment 
in any age, but are almost incredible when we con- 
sider the barbarous manner in which war was carried 
on in the beginning of the sixteenth century. In such 
high esteem was he held by Francis, that the king 
requested to be made a knight by the hands of his 
brave subject; and when Bayard would have excused 



FRENCH HISTORY. 101 

himself, commanded that it should be done. Bayard 
drew his sword, dubbed him after the usual form, and 
having pronounced the words, " In the name of God, 
St. Michael, and St. George, I make thee a knight: 
be worthy, brave, and loyal; and God grant that you 
may never flee from your enemies," kissed the wea- 
pon, and devoted it as a relic to the service of religion. 
'J'he circumstances of his death have been the subject 
of historical eulogium, and have been immortalized 
by poets and painters. He received a mortal wound 
by a ball from an arquebuse, and immediately cried 
out, "Jesus, mon Dieu ! je suis mort." He then pre- 
pared himself for death with that composure and 
magnanimity which cliaracterized all his actions. He 
held up his sword before him to supply the want of 
a crucifix, confessed himself to his steward, as no 
priest was to be found, and comforted his friends 
and servants under the loss that they were about to 
sustain. The Duke of Bourbon wept over him like 
a child. " Weep not for me," said the dying hero, 
*' weep not for me ; but for yourself. I die in the 
service of my country ; you triumph in the ruin of 
3^ours : and have far greater cause to lament your 
victory than I my defeat." Tlius died the Chevalier 
Bayard — the chevalier sans peur el. sans reproche. 

In a subsequent battle between the Constable Bour- 
bon and Francis, at Pava, in Italy, the king was taken 
prisoner, and his army almost destroyed. He is Said 
to have slain several of his opponents with his oi^n 



102 BEAUTIES OF 

hands during the engagement; and although covered 
with wounds, and deserted by his followers, contin- 
ued to defend himself with heroic valour, until, com- 
pletely exhausted, two Spanish officers put their 
swords to his throat and bade him surrender. A 
follower of Bourbon recognized him, though his face 
was stained with blood from a deep wound across 
his forehead, and desired him to yield himself to the 
constable. Francis refused to deliver up his sword 
to a traitor, but presented it to the Viceroy of Naples, 
who arrived on the spot just as his captors had de- 
spoiled him of his armour, belt, and spurs. 

The old Mareschal de Chabannes, who had been 
distinguished in every battle under Charles the Eighth 
and Louis the Twelfth, was made prisoner by Cas- 
taldo, a Neapolitan captain. As Castaldo was con- 
ducting him to a place of safety, he was met by Bu- 
zarto, a Spanish officer, who judginsf by the mare- 
schal's coat of mail that he was a prize of value, 
wished to be associated with the Neapolitan in the 
profit of his prisoner's ransom. Castaldo refused; 
when the brutal Spaniard, with an atrocity un- 
paralleled, shot the venerable mareschal dead at 
his feet. 

Richard de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, al* perished 
on tliis fatal day. He commanded the corps of five 
thousand men raised by the Duke of Gueldres in 
3515, and surnamed " the Black Bands:" he was suf- 
focated under a heap of dead bodies. Two other 



FRENCH HISTORY. 103 

distinguished commanders were slain, Lescun Mare- 
echal de Foix, and the Admiral Bonnivet ; the former 
■was the declared and inveterate enemy of the latter, 
although botli fought on the side of France. When 
conscious that he was mortally wounded, Lescun 
became furious with rage at the idea that his mortal 
foe must now escape his wrath ; and, only anxious 
to punish him before his o'vn death, sought him all 
over the field with the L^pe of plunging a dagger 
into his breast: he at lyn/^./i fell exhausted, and was 
made prisoner and cdrzvA into Pavia, where he died 
in the arms of a beau' j'jI countess, to whom he had 
feeen fondly atta'./ic-d. 

Nothing can «i»e more heroic than the death of 
Bonnivet, to v/^ose fatal advice the loss of the battle 
was maJ^'i'y v'^.tributable. Seeing the fortune of the 
day wa^">»^ nd the troops disposed to fly, he at- 
tempted i J ally them •, but, not succeeding, he raised 
his viso/*, chat he might be universally known, and 
rushing into the thickest of the fight, fell covered with 
wounds. The resentment of the constable subsided 
at the sight of his bloody and disfigured remains; 
he gazed upon them for some time in silence, and 
then solemnly said, "Ah raalheureux! Tu es cause 
de la ruine de la France ; — et de la mienne," he 
added, after a lengthened pause. 

The king communicated the result of this struggle 
to the queen-mother in these words, "Madam., all is 
lost but our honour " 



104 BEAUTIES Ol" 

The French king was kept in captivity during a 
period of thirteen months, the greater portion of which 
was spent in prison in Madrid. At the end of this 
time he was released by treaty, his two sons being 
left as hostages for the due performance of the con- 
ditions. No sooner had he reached his own domi- 
nions, than he mounted a Turkish horse that waited 
for him, and galloped, without stopping or looking 
behind, to St. Jean de Luz, often waving his bonnet 
in the air, and exclaiming, " Je suis encore Koi !" 

hi 1526, the war between the two great monarchs, 
Charles the Fifth, Emperor of Germany, and Francis, 
was renewed in Italy. The command of the forces 
of the former was again given to the Duke of Bour- 
bon, who formed the daring and desperate resolution 
of marching to Rome, the Roman pontiff having 
sided with the French king. This design was car- 
ried into effect ; and although the duke was killed 
by a musket-ball under the walls, his victorious army 
(the command of which devolved on the Prince of 
Orange) entered and pillaged that celebrated city. 
Pope Clement the Second was forced to capitulate, 
and remained a prisoner in the hands of the victors ; 
and Rome, abandoned to the rapacity and violence 
of the conquerors, became a scene of carnage and 
desolation. The first shot that was fired had proved 
fatal to the duke of Bourbon, and was commonly at- 
tributed to a priest ; but Benvenuto Cellmi, known 
by his extraordinary writings and adventures, lays 



FRENCH HISTORY. 105 

claim to the merit of the deed. The duke's death 
was not known until his troops had obtained pos- 
gession of the city. No language can express the 
fury of the soldiers when they received the intelli- 
gence. They rent the air with cries of " Carne, 
came! Sangre, sangre! Bourbon, Bourbon!" and 
every sentiment of mercy was extinguished in their 
breasts. Tlie pillage lasted without interruption for 
two months; during which every crime of which 
man is capable was committed. The details are too 
horrible for insertion. 

Francis the First died of a slow fever, on the 31st 
of March, 1547, in the fifty-third year of his age, 
and the thirty-third of his reign. The proclamation 
in the hall of the palace, which announced his death, 
was in these words : " Prince, clement en paix, vic- 
torieux en guerre, pere et restaurateur des bonnes 
lettres et des arts liberaux." His devotion to gal- 
lantry is well known. "A court without ladies," 
he would frequently say, " is a year without spring; 
a spring without roses." 

Francis, however, urged by the clergy, wlio were 
apprehensive lest he should absolutely join the Pro- 
testants, and being desirous, on this account, to sig- 
nalize his zeal, and to assure them of the contrar}-, 
appears to have entered into their views with more 
tlian liis usual ardour, for some years before his 
death. In order to excite general attention, and to 
revive the veneration accustomed to be paid to the 



108 BEAUTIES OP 

ceremonies of the cliurcli generally, and to the mass 
and the host particularly, which was evidently de- 
clining, he ordained a solemn procession in Paris, 
January, 1535; in which he walked barefooted and 
with uncovered head, carrying a torch in his hand, 
and followed by his children, the princes of the 
blood, and all his courtiers. At the cojirlusion he 
delivered a discourse to as many as could hear him, 
against the reformed doctrines, exhorted all to be- 
ware of them, and held out encouragement to such 
as would give information against Reformers, de- 
claring that if one of his children, or his own right 
hand, were infected, he w-ould not hesitate aboul its 
destruction. 

Bude was the chief cause of the revival of litera- 
ture under Francis the First; this must be considered 
as no slight honour : his wife was of great use to 
him in his literary pursuits, and used to find out and 
mark down the various passages suitable to his pur- 
pose. One day his servant came running to him in 
a great fright, crying out — "Sir, Sir, the house is on 
lire !" " Why do you not inform your mistress of 
it ?" replied Bude, calmly ; " you know 1 never 
trouble myself about the house."* 

HENRY THE SECOND, 

Son of Francis, succeeded to the throne of France. 

* As this anecdote is related of several other persons, it may 
be well to state that it is extracted from a rare book in the king's 
library, at the British Museum. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 1Q7 

He was the handsomest prince of the ag-e, and one 
of the best cavaliers in Europe; courteous, beneficent, 
and humane, his intentions were ever honourable, 
but his judj»ment was not always right. He pos- 
sessed neither the capacity nor discernment of his 
father, and was in great measure under the influence 
and guidance of unworthy favourites. The treasures 
amassed during the latter years of the reign of Fran- 
cis, were dissipated in wanton extravagance by his 
successor. 

Henry, on his return from a visit he made, soon 
after his accession, to the frontier of Picardy, not 
only permitted, but was present with all his court, 
at the celebrated duel between Guy de Chabat-Jarnac 
and Francis de Vivonne la Chataignerie, which was 
fought with all the forms of chivalry, at St. Germain- 
en-Laye. Jarnac had cast some foul imputations on 
Chataignerie, who was one of the most skilful and 
accomplished cavaliers of France, and who so com- 
pletely despised his antagonist, that he fought care- 
lessly, and was vanquished. By a thrust totally un- 
expected, Jarnac wounded him in the thigh and 
brought him to the ground. Henry instantly flung 
down his baton, to put an end to the encounter, and 
Jarnac, as the law of arms required, desisted ; but his 
competitor, stung with disappointment and covered 
with shame, would not accept the life of which the 
honour and glory was gone; and having torn offlhei 
bandages from h.is v/ounds, Foon after expired. 



108 BEAUTIES OP 

Henry was remarkably fond of tournaments and 
entertainments, and indulged in them to excess; but 
these innocent exhibitions were soon followed by 
others of a very different character. The reforma- 
tion had broken out in Germany, and had spread in 
France, where a number of proselytes to the doctrines 
of Calvin and Luther were publicly and solemnly 
burnt, as examples to their companions; the king 
and his whole court being present at these inhuman 
sacrifices, which were performed with a refinement 
of cruelty, worthier of a race of savages than of 
civilized men, professing the faith of Him who went 
about doing good. 

Henry had married Catherine de Medicis ; but his 
favours were shared by a beautiful though designing 
"woman, Diana of Poitiers, created Duchess of Valen- 
tinois. She was near twenty years older than the 
king; and an attachment so unusual, between per- 
sons of such unequal ages was, by his subjects, attri- 
buted to sorcery. It was affirmed that tlie duchess 
wore magical rings to prevent the decay of her beauty, 
which she retained in a remarkable degree even till 
the autumn of her days. A writer who saw her 
when nearly seventy years old, speaks of her as 
being "so lovely, that the most insensible person 
could not have looked upon her without emotion." 
This guilty attachment of the king produced much 
of the misery which embittered the latter years of his 
?eign. To satisfy her extravagance he had to levy 



FRENCH HISTORV. 109 

taxes of an odious and unbearable nature. Thus is 
it always with impure affection; it bears, like a 
scorpion, a sting that destroys others, and in the end 
itself. 

In 1549, Margaret, the king's aunt, and sister of 
Francis, died. She was indisputably the most ac- 
complished princess of the age : devoted to the love 
of letters, she encouraged and patronized men of 
genius and learning, from whom she received the 
flattering epithets of " the Tenth Muse" and " the 
Fourth Grace." She was herself an authoress, and her 
tales are much in the style of those of Boccaccio. 
Though she was sometimes so devout as to compose 
hymns, she was unhappily an esprit fori., and had 
even doubts concerning the immortality of the soul. 
Brantome, the historian, has preserved a curious 
story relative to the death of one of her maids of ho- 
nour. She remained by the bedside of the dying 
lady, on whom she continued to fix her eyes with 
intense eagerness. When asked what satisfaction 
she could possibly derive from such a painful iu« 
spection, her answer marked a daring and inquisitive 
mind. She said, " that having often heard the mosfc 
learned doctors and ecclesiastics assert, that on the 
extinction of the body, the immortal part was un- 
loosed and set at liberty, she could not restrain her 
anxious curiosity to observe if any indications of 
such a separation were discernible, but could per- 
ceive none." 

10 



JIO BEAUTIES OF 

In 1558, Francis, the Dauphin, afterwards Francis' 
the Second, was married in the church of Notre Dame^ 
at Paris, to Mary, the young Queen of Scotland, the 
melancholy story of whose after life is so familiar to 
the English reader. 

Henry ■'s eldest daughter, Mary, was married 
A. D. 1559, to Philip of Spain; on which occasion, 
tournaments and carousals added a martial magnifi- 
cence to amusements of a gentler nature: an en- 
counter, however, in one of these, proved fatal to the 
king. The lists extended from the palace of the 
Tournelles to the Bastile •, and Henry himself had 
broken many lances, with more than his usual vigour 
and address. On the third day of the tournament, as 
he was retiring amid the applauses of his subjects, he 
observed two lances lying at the entrance to the 
theatre. — Seizing one of them, he ordered the other 
to be given to Montgomery, the commander of the 
Royal Scotch Guards, who thrice declined the ho- 
nour, but at length accepted the challenge with ex- 
treme reluctance. The king became the more eager 
and obstinate, and, almost without giving his anta- 
gonist time to put himself on his defence sprung for- 
ward at him. The shock was so violent as to raise the 
king's helmet, and to break the lance of Montgomery ; 
a splinter of which entered the left temple of the king, 
who died a few days after from the effects of the " 
wound, on the 10th of July, 1559. 

Amongst the remarkable men who flourished in 



FRSNCH HISTORY. Ill 

the reign of Henry the Second, Stephen Jodelle de- 
serves particular notice, from being the first who 
undertook to write such dramatic pieces as have been 
imitated ever since, in opposition to the profaneness 
of the representations then in vogue, of which reli- 
gious mysteries were always the subjects. 

FRANCIS THE SECOND, 

Ascended the throne at the age of sixteen, the queen- 
mother, Catherine de Medicis, being regent and go- 
verning in his name. He lived only two years ; and 
-after his death, his young and lovely queen, Mary, 
returned to her dominions in Scotland. 

The reigrro& Francis was chiefly remarkable for 
the commencer^ent of those animosities between the 
families of Guise\§;nd Bourbon, which produced in 
the time of his successor effects so dreadful as to 
leave an indelible stain upon the history of France. 
1'he bright days of Francflg the First, and Henry the 
Second, the noble and animating contest for glory 
with Charles the Fifth, and Pliilip the Second, were 
succeeded by intestine confusion, rebellion, massacre, 
and revolt. Catherine de Medicis, like an evil genius, 
mingled and embroiled ail ranks and parties ; and the 
spirit of civil discord and religious frenzy seemed 
almost to extinguish every sentiment of humanity, 
patriotism, and virtue throughout the once honour- 
able and chivalrous realm of France. 

Francis, Duke of Guise, and his brother the Car- 



112 BEAUTIES OF 

dinal of Lorraine, had the confidence of the king and 
the interest of the queen-mother : Anthony of Bour- 
bon, King of Navarre, and Louis, Prince of Conde, 
his brother, were opposed to these noblemen; and 
thus two rival and powerful factions were formed, 
which, for several years, kept the kingdom almost in 
a state of civil war. The Bourbons patronized the 
then increasing but unpopular Huguenots. Coligni, 
Admiral of France, and D'Andelot, his brother, both 
of them proselytes to Calvinism, embraced the Bour- 
bon party, and adhered to it to the end. 

Severities against the professors of the reformed 
religion were carried on at Paris to^ cruel extent. 
Du Bourg, a man of distinguished wp^ts and erudi- 
tion, was strangled, and his body co^^umed to ashes. 
At length the Calvinists began gjpcretly to unite for 
their common preservation. iC-lkrge body of them 
attacked the most malignant' of their enemies, the 
Guises, in the castle of jlftnboise ; but were discom- 
fited, and the greater number either killed in the en- 
counter, or hanged afterwards. Not fewer than 1200 
suffered under the handsrof the executioner. The 
streets of Amboise ran with blood •, the Loire was 
covered with floating carcasses ; and all the open 
places were crowded with gibbets. Villemongeyy 
one of the principal conspirators, being led to the 
scaffold (already covered with the bodies of his 
friends,) imbrued his hands in their blood, and hold- 
ing them up, exclaimed, "Behold, righteous judge .'' 



FRENCH HISTORY. 113 

the innocent blood of those who have fought for thy 
cause. Thou wilt not leave it unavenged." Cathe- 
rine, her three sons, and the chief ladies of the court, 
beheld from their castle windows, as a diversion, the 
horrid and sickening spectacle presented by the town, 
and were present at many of the executions. 

Through the overwhelming influence of the Guises, 
the Prince of Conde was imprisoned and sentenced 
to lose his head. Apprehensive that his brother, 
Anthony of Bourbon, would revenge his death, they 
determined upon his assassination. The weak and 
misguided king was to be made the instrument of one 
of the basest and foulest murders that had ever been 
devised. It was agreed that he should command the 
attendance of Anthony in his own cabinet, the Guises 
being present; when, feigning to have discovered 
new proofs of his treasonable practices, he should 
reproach him in the severest manner. As they na- 
turally expected he wouldreply warmly, they meant 
to iaili^ advantage of the circumstance, and despatch 
him in the confusion, under the pretence that he had 
threatened the life of th§ king. Anthony was in- 
formed of the plot; but finding himself completely in 
the power of the Guises, resolved to prepare him- 
self for the worst, and to dispute his life with his 
sword whe# attacked. " If they kill me," said he to 
one of his faithful gentlemen, " carry my shirt all 
't)loody to my wife and son ; they will read in my 
'blood what they ought to do to avenge it." Anthony 
10* 



314 BEAUTIES OF 

accordingly obeyed the king's order, and entering the 
apartment where he was seated, approached him, 
and kissed his hand with profound submission. Sof- 
tened by this behaviour, and affected by his presence, 
the king changed his resolution, and omitting to give 
the sign previously agreed on, at which the sur- 
rounding attendants were to fall upon him, permitted 
him to withdraw. Jt is added, that the Duke of Guise, 
finding his project abortive, exclaimed, in a voice full 
of indignation, "Oh, le timide et lache enfant!" 

Amid these intrigues and cabals, Francis the Se- 
cond died, A. D. 1560. His character has been 
given by Voltaire in two lines : 

Foible enfant, qui de Guise adorait les caprices, 
Et dont on ignorait les vertus et les vices. 

The crown descended to his brother 

CHARLES THE NINTH. 

The death of Francis set at liberty the Prince of 
Conde ; who, with a courage and magnanimity be- 
coming himself, refused to nuit his prison till he knew 
who had been his prosecufbrs and accusers: but no 
person dared to avow himself as such. The Guises 
declared, that every step had "been take^ by the late 
king's express and particular command.|Hk 

Charles was but ten years and a half old j\vhen he 
ascended the throne ; and the annals of nations do 
not present to us a reign that produced events of a 



FRENCH HISTORY. 115 

more calamitous nature. The kingdom, from one end 
to the other, became involved in all the worst hor- 
rors of civil war ; until the dreadful night of St. Bartho- 
lomew, stained with blood and veiled in darkness, 
completed one of the most frightful pictures that the 
imagination can conceive. This bloody tragedy stands 
unparalleled in the history of mankind ; its atrocity- 
has never been equalled ; and, even after a lapse of 
three centuries, it is impossible to recur to it without 
shuddering. 

The civil wai*s, of which religion (a religion far 
different from that of its patient and long suffering 
Founder) formed the leading pretext, were commen- 
ced by the massacre at Vassey, in Champagne. ^A 
dispute arose between the Huguenots and some do- 
mestics of the Buke of Guise, which the duke him- 
self endeavoured to check ; but in the attempt he was 
severely wounded by a blow on the cheek from a stone. 
His attendants imiioediately attacked the Huguenots, 
and killed or wounWed above two hundred and fifty. 

The King of Navarre, the Prince of Conde, and the 
Duke of Guise, fell in the^^ourse of the struggles that 
succeeded ; the duke was assassinated, the others died 
in battle. The Admiral Coligniwas accused of being 
a party to the murder; and his protestations of in- 
nocence failed to satisfy the family of the Guises. 
The duke's eldest son, then a boy, vowed eternal 
hatred towards the admiral ; and his revenge was 
'^satiated on the fatal night of St. Bartholomew. 



,116 BEAUTIES OF 

In one of the subsequent battles between the Ca- 
tholics and the Huguenots, fought on the plains of 
St. Denis, the general of the Catholics, Montmorenci, 
was slain. He had received four wounds in the face, 
^nd a severe one from a battle-axe, but was still en- 
deavouring to rally his troops, when Robert Stuart, 
a Scotchman, said to be of the blood-royal, rode up 
to him and levelled a pistol at his head. "Dost thou 
linow me .^" said Montmorenci ; " I am the constable 
of France." "Yes," answered Stuart, " I know thee 
•well, and therefore I present thee this." So saying, 
he discharged a ball into the constable's shoulder, 
who fell ; but, while falling, he dashed the hilt of 
his broken sword into his enemy's mouth, which 
fractured his jaw, and laid him senseless on the 
ground. Stuart was afterwards taken prisoner, and 
executed. 

The end of the Prince of Conde had more the 
character of assassination, than of the death of a war- 
rior in the field. He went into"%ie action of Jarnac 
with his arm in a sling, and almost immediately had 
his leg broken by the rearing of his brother-in-law's 
horse. Unmoved by so painful an accident, or at 
least disdaining to betray any unbecoming emotion 
at such a crisis, he coolly observed to those around 
jhim, "Learn that unruly horses do more injury than 
:fiervice in an army." And then continued, " Know 
^that the Prince of Conde disdains not to give battle 
with an arm in a scarf and a leg broken, since you 



FRENCH HISTORY. 117 

attend him.^' The fortune of the day was against the 
Huguenots, and the prince was surrounded and taken 
prisoner. He was placed at the foot of a tree, co- 
vered with wounds : when a ruffian, named Montes- 
quieu, a captain in the Swiss guards, galloped to the 
spot. Having been informed who the captive was ; 
" Tuez, tuez, mordieu !" he exclaimed, and instantly- 
discharged his pistol at the prince, who fell dead on 
the spot. 

The actual command of the Huguenot forces de- 
volved upon Coligni, after the death of Conde. 
Having achieved several victories, a peace highly to 
the advantage of his friends was obtained; and he 
was induced to dismiss his army, and assist in the 
government of Charles the Ninth. He received, how- 
ever, repeated warnings that the seeming quiet was 
but a hollow truce for the purpose of gaining time to 
effect his destruction and that of the Huguenots, and 
to abolish the reformation in France, by the total ex- 
tinction of the reformers. Though conscious of 
danger, Coligni replied, that he v/ould rather suffer 
himself to be dragged through the streets of Paris 
than renew the horrors of civil war. 

Towards the beginning of 1572, tlie plot of Ca- 
therine de Medicis, and her party, began to ripen. 
The entire destruction of the Huguenots was resolved 
upon; and the assassination of Coligni was deter- 
mined, as a prelude to the general massacre. On the 
22d of August, a man named Mourevel, selected for 



118 



BEAUTIES OF 



that purpose, posted himself in a lillle chamber of 
the cloister of St. Germain de I'Auxerrois, near which 
Coligni usually passed on his way from the Louvre 
to his own house. As the admiral walked slowly on, 
perusing some papers, Mourevel, from a window, 
levelled at him an arquebuse, loaded with two balls, 
one of which broke the forefinger of his right hand, 
and the other lodged in his left arm, near the elbow. 
The assassin instantly fled, and, mounting a swift 
horse provided for him by the duke of Guise, es- 
caped. Coligni, without betraying the least emotion, 
turned calmly round, and pointing with his bleeding 
band toward the window, said, " Le coup vient de- 
ia." He was taken home and his wounds dressed. 
The king, when informed of the affair, affected the 
greatest anger, and carried his hypocrisy so far as to 
-visit Coligni in person. The Calvinist nobles called 
for instant justice ; and one of them, at the head of 
four hundred gentlemen, entered the palace of the 
Louvre, demanding to be revenged on the assassin. 

This rash step accelerated the massacre. On the 
evening of the 24th of August, 1572, being Sunday, 
and the day of the feast of St. Bartholomew, the duke 
of Guise went, about twnlight, with orders from the . 
court, to Charron, provost of Paris, to provide two 
thousand armed men ; each to have a white sleeve on 
his left arm, and a white cross on his hat; and to di- 
rect that on ringing the bell of the palace clock, the 
whole city should be illummated. 



FRENCH HISTORY. US' 

As the awful moirient approached, some principles 
of remaining honour, some sentiments of humanity, 
commiseration, and virtue, which all the pernicious 
counsels of his mother had not been able effectually 
to destroy, maintained a conflict in Charles's bosom. 
Cold sweats bedewed his forehead, and his whole 
frame trembled, as if under an attack of ague. With 
the greatest difficulty, Catherine forced from him a 
precise command to begin the massacre ; and, fearing 
he might retract his consent, she hastened the signal 
bell more than an hour before the concerted time,. 
!t tolled from the church of St. Germain de PAuxer- 
rois. 

The admiral had long retired to rest, when the^ 
noise made by the assassins in forcing the gates of 
his house, gave him warning that his end was near.. 
His confidential servant entered his apartment, ex- 
claiming, "Arise, my lord, God calls us to himself!" 
The good and gallant Coligni sprang from his bed,, 
and prepared himself for death. A German, named 
Besme, burst open the door, and stood before him 
with a drawn rapier in his hand. "Young man," 
said he, " respect my gray hairs, and do not stain 
them with blood." Besme hesitated a moment, and 
then plunged his weapon into the bosom of the un- 
armed and aged man ; ufter which, his followers 
threw the body from the window into the court-yard^ 
where it was anxiously expected by the duke of 
Guise, who contemplated it in silence, and offered il 



120 BEAUTIES OF 

no insult. But Henry of Angouleme, Grand Prior of 
France, having wiped the face with a handkerchief.^ 
and recognizing it as Coligni's, kicked the corpse, 
and exclaimed with brutal exultation, " Courage ! my 
friends ! we have begun well, let us finish in the same 
manner !" 

Teligni, the son-in-law of Coligni, a youth of most 
beautiful person and engaging manners, was butchered 
in attempting to escape over the roof of the house. 
The fate of the Ceunt de la Rochefoucault, too, was 
attended with circumstances that excited peculiar pity 
and indignation. He had passed the evening with 
the king at play ; and Charles, touched with some 
feeling of human nature towards a nobleman whom 
he personally loved, ordered him to remain in his 
privy chamber during the night. The count, how- 
ever, conceiving that it was a plan to furnish amuse- 
ment at his expense, refused, and departed. "I see," 
said Charles, " it is the will of God that he should 
perish." When the officer who was sent to destroy 
him, knocked at his door, he opened it himself, and 
seeing several persons in masks, imagined that the 
king had come to play some youthful frolic ; and as 
lie uttered a piece of badinage, was stabbed to the 
heart 

The house of every Huguenot in the city was 
broken open, and the wretched inhabitants murdered, 
without distinction to age or sex. Their slaughtered 
and mangled bodies were thrown in heaps before 



FRENCH HISTORY. 121 

the gates of the Louvre, to satiate at once the cu- 
riosity and vengeance of the fiend Catherine and her 
brutal court. Even Charles gave his personal aid in 
the massacre ; and, it is said, fired on his wretched 
subjects with a long arquebuse from his window^s, 
endeavouring to kill the fugitives who sought to 
escape from the Fauxbourg St. Germain. 

The corpse of the Admiral Coligni was treated with 
indignities, the bare mention of which is a disgrace 
to human nature. An Italian cut off the head, and 
carried it to Catherine de Medicis, who received it 
with undisguised joy. It was afterwards sent to 
Rome as an acceptable present to the sovereign pon- 
tiff! The mutilated trunk was thrown upon a dung- 
hill, and subsequently hung upon a gibbet, by an iron 
chain attached to the feet, under which a fire was 
lighted, and it was scorched without being consumed. 
While in this condition the king went, with several 
of his courtiers, to gaze at it ; and as the corpse smelt 
disagreeably, some of them turned away their heads. 
"The body of a dead enemy," said Charles, "always 
smells well." 

During a whole week the system of extermination 
was continued, though its extreme fury lasted only 
two days. More than five thousand persons of all 
ranks, perished by various kinds of deaths, and the 
Seine was loaded with floating carcasses. A butcher, 
who entered the palace of the Louvre while the mas- 
sacre was at its height, is said to have bared his 
11 



122 BEAUTIES OF 

bloody arm before the sovereign, and to have boasted 
that he had himself despatched a hundred and fifty 
Huguenots. 

Margaret, queen of Navarre, in her Memoirs, re- 
lates, that after she had retired to bed on the fatal night 
a person Came to her door, and knocked violently with 
his hands and feet, crying out, '^ Navarre ! Navarre !'^ 
It was opened; when a gentleman named Gersan 
rushed in, pursued by four archers, threw himself on- 
her bed, and besought her to save him. With much 
difficulty she succeeded in preserving his life. 

Orders were speedily despatched to different quar- 
ters of the kingdom, for the continuation of the in- 
human butchery ; and the number of slain is said tc^- 
have amounted to forty thousand. Some few noble 
spirits refused to obey the king's mandate. One 
of them deserves especial mention. The Viscount 
d'Ortez, governor of Bayonne, though a Catholic, 
had the courage to send this answer to Charles r 
"Sire, I have read the letter to the inhabitants of 
Bayonne, enjoining a massacre of the Huguenots* 
Your majesty has many faithfully devoted subjects- 
in this city, but not one executioner." 

It is time to close the record of this diabolical act,. 
which forms so prominent a part of the history of 
France, that it was impossible to omit it ; yet it will 
have one eflect that may counteract the sickening 
horror with which it must be read — it will induce uh 
to thank God that we live in an age, in a country^ 



FRENCH HISTORY. 123 

Bnd under a government, whose motto is " Tole- 
rance." 

The judgment of Providence overtook the main 
authors of the massacre of St. Barlhoh)mevv. Tiie 
king became a prey to disease of body and mind, and 
died miserably, in 1574, when only twenty-five years 
of age ; and as he left no issue male to inherit the 
throne, lie declared his brother, the Duke of Anjou 
and king of Poland, his successor. 

The infamous Catherine lived until 1589, but af- 
flicted with gout and other disorders. Various stories 
illustrative of her superstition are recorded. She al- 
ways carried about her person cabalistical characters, 
written on the skin of a stillborn infant; and several 
talismans and amulets were found in her cabinet after 
her death. She once considted a famous astrologer 
on the fortunes of all her children, and he showed 
lier in a mirror the number of years that each would 
reign, by the number of turns they made. Francis 
the Second, Charles the Ninth, and Henry the Third, 
passed successively in review before her. She even 
saw Henry Duke of Guise, who disappeared on a 
sudden ; and Henry the Fourth, who made twenty- 
four turns. This last circumstance increased the 
aversion she had always entertained towards that 
(subsequently) great monarch. 

As an instance of the arrogant power assumed by 
<]5harles the Ninth, he is stated, when almost a child, 
!to have thus addressed the Parliament of Paris : 



124 BEAUTIES OF 

" Your duty is to obey my orders ; presume not to 
examine what they are, but obey them. I know 
better than you what the state and expediency re- 
quire." This is indeed, a rare specimen of the " right 
divine ;" nor was it the mere effect of boyish petu- 
lance ; it was the spirit that uniformly animated the 
kings of the House of Valois. Times have changed 
in France. 

HENRY THE THIRD 

Succeeded to the crown at the age of twenty-four. 
He was then in Poland, having been elected king of 
that country about a year previously. 

The King of Navarre (afterwards Henry the 
Fourth) deserted Henry's interest soon after his 
accession, joined the Huguenot party, abjured the 
Catholic faith, and commanded a large and powerful 
party against him. The king was glad to make peace 
on terms highly advantageous to the Protestants, who 
obtained the free exercise of their religion, shared the 
courts of justice, and several towns ceded to them as 
security for their rights. In consequence of the 
Huguenots having gained so many advantages, the 
Catholics became alarmed, and formed the celebrated 
"League," at the head of which was the Duke of 
Guise. But to counteract its effects, the king of Na- 
varre succeeded in inducing the confederate princes 
of Germany to send an army of aid to the Huguenots. 

The influence of the duke of Guise in Paris was 



FRENCH HISTORY. 195 

«o great as to render the king a mere puppet, to take 
from him all power, and, indeed, to place him in a 
situation little better than that of a state prisoner. 
Henry attempted the destruction of the duke; and 
proposed to Grillon, the colonel of his guards, to 
rid him of the man who rendered even his life un- 
safe. " Sire," replied Grillon, " I am your majesty's 
faithful servant ; but my profession is that of a sol- 
dier : I am ready, this instant, to lay down my life 
in your service ; 1 will challenge the duke of Guise 
if you command me ; but while I live I will not be 
an executioner." Others, however, less scrupulous 
were found ; and it was resolved that the deed should 
be perpetrated on the 23d of December, 1588. On 
the morning of that day, the king directed the cap- 
tain of his guard to double the number of soldiers ; 
and having detained with him, in his closet, several 
gentlemen of tried courage, sent for the duke of 
Guise. The duke obeyed, rose from the fire, near 
which he was seated, and passed into the ante-cham- 
ber, the door of which was immediately locked after 
him. Seeing only eight gentlemen of the king's 
guard who were known to him, he proceeded to the 
door of the closet; and as he stretched forth his 
hand to open it, St. Malin, one of the eight, stabbed 
him with a dagger in the neck; on which the other 
seven crowded around him, each gave him a blow, 
and killed him. The brothers of the duke were in- 
stantly made prisoners, the doors opened, and all 
11* 



126 BEAUTIES OF 

■who wished admitted. Henry, addressing theniy 
said, " he hoped his subjects would learn to know 
and obey him ; that having conquered the head, he 
should have less difficulty in subduing the members; 
and that he was resolved to be not nominally, but 
really a monarch." The cardinal of Guise was also 
put to death, and the bodies of the brothers buried 
secretly with quicklime, that no use might be made 
of them in inflaming the people. Such was the end 
of one of tlie most daring and ambitious men of the 
age in which he lived. When the report of his death 
reached Paris, on Christmas eve, it flew like lightning 
over the city; and nothing was thought of but ven- 
geance for the murder of the favourite of the people. 
The college of Sorbonne voted that the sovereign had 
forfeited his right to the crown, and that his subjects 
ought no longer to acknowledge his authority. While 
the capital was in this state of insurrection, the king 
agreed to unite his forces and interests with those 
of the king of Navarre ; and their joint armies were 
every where successful. 

With a force of 42,000 men, the kings laid siege 
to Paris. At this time Jacques Clement, a Domini- 
can friar, whether from enthusiasm or by persuasion 
of " the league" is uncertain, resolved upon the as- 
sassination of Henry. The Count de Brienne, who 
was then a prisoner in Paris, having been made to 
believe that Clement might be instrumental in intro- 
ducing the king into the city, and entertaining no sus« 



FRENCH HISTORY. 127 

picion of his intentions, gave him letters of introduc- 
tion to his majesty. On the morning of the 1st of 
August, 1589, the friar was conducted to his dress- 
ing-room, and having delivered the count's letters 
into the king's own hand, stabbed him with a knife^ 
deep in the belly. Henry, drawing out the knife him- 
self, struck it into tlie assassin's forehead.* The 
gentlemen of his chamber also seized him, pierced 
him with their swords, and threw him, still alive, 
over the window to the soldiers, who burnt him and 
scattered his ashes in the river. Henry died of this 
wound two days after its infliction, in the thirty-sixth 
year of his age, and the sixteenth of his reign, leav- 
ing no issue. When he found his strength decaying, 
and that he had not many hours to live, he sent for 
the king of Navarre and the principal nobility ; ex- 
horted the latter to acknowledge the former as their 
lawful sovereign ; and, at the same time embracing^ 
him, said, " Brother, you will never be king of 
France, unless you become a Catholic." He is de- 
scribed as fickle, unstable, imprudent, and mean ; — 
his name was almost universally detested ; and it is 
added, that " no man loved him." Some historians 
have affirmed that he was assassinated in the very 

* Sully, in relating the circumstance, says, that when Henry 
had received the letters from Clement, he asked him if he had 
given him all. " No, sire," said the assassin, " I have still on© 
more," and instantly drew forth his knifcj and stabbed him. J 



128 BEAUTIES OF 

chamber in which was formed the resolution to exe- 
cute the massacre of St. Bartholomew. 

His successor, the king of Navarre, treated him 
with pity and generosity ; and he had his reward ; 
but if he had been absent at a distance from Paris, 
and not at the head of a large and victorious army 
under its walls, he would never have succeeded to 
the crown; and France would have been deprived of 
the boast, that at least one of her monarchs deserved 
the immortality he obtained. 

A curious, but well-authenticated anecdote is re- 
lated of the duke of Anjou, the brother of Henry the 
Third. Jn 1581, he passed over to England for the 
purpose of offering marriage to Queen Elizabeth, 
wdth whom he had previously corresponded, and 
from whom he had received money in aid of the 
Protestant cause in France. On his arrival in Lon- 
don, Elizabeth encouraged his addresses so far, that 
on the anniversary of her coronation, she publicly 
took a ring from her own finger and placed it upon 
his. Yet ambition and prudence triumphed over 
love ; for after a painful struggle between inclination 
and duty, or — if female afl^ection ought to be ex- 
cluded — between one political plan and another, she 
decided against his pretensions ; and having sent for 
Jiim, informed him of her final determinaiion. In- 
dignation, disgust, and resentment agitated the disap- 
pointed duke ; he threw away her ring with many 
Imprecations, returned to the Netherlands, of which 



FRENCH HISTORY. 329 

he was governor, was subsequently expelled that 
country, and died in 1584. 

This projected marriage was very unpalatable to 
her English subjects; and would have been most pre- 
judicial to the interests of her country. A puritan, 
of Lincoln's Inn, wrote and published a work, enti- 
tled " The Gulph in which England will be swal- 
lowed by the French Marriage." He was apprehend- 
ed, prosecuted, and condemned to lose his right hand 
as a libeller. Such, however, was his firmness and 
loyalty, that immediately after the sentence was exe- 
cuted, he took off his hat with his other hand, and 
waving it over his head, cried " God save the Queen !" 



THE RACE OF BOURBON. 



HENRY THE FOURTH. 

With Henry the Third the race of Valois became 
extinct; and with Henry the Fourth that of Bourbon 
commenced. It is curious that the families of Capet 
and Valois both ended by the succession to the throne 
of three brothers, who all died without leaving heirs 
male. Henry the Fourth was descended, through 
nine removes, from St. Louis ; and ascended the 



130 BEAUTIES OF 

throne in the year 1589, at the age of thirty-six. He j 
possessed nearly all the attributes necessary to make \ 
a great and good king — a warm and generous heart, 
an enlarged and sound understanding, great prompti- 
tude, and unwearied activity, and a prudence and 
moderation which he had cultivated in the school of 
adversity, both in the court and camp* He was . 
feold and intrepid, without rashness ; and his imagi- ; 
nation and passions were, in the main, restrained by i 
a steady judgment and a sense of duty. j 
Such is the fair side of the picture of "Henri ; 
Quatre," which the historians of his reign, and the 1 
immortal Sully in particular, have painted, and ! 
handed down to posterity : and so far it is just and 
true. But unhappily he had failings where female ; 
virtue and domestic relations were concerned, which ' 
it would be desirable, were it possible, to bury in ob- 
livion. They not only injured his moral character \ 
and disturbed his domestic peace, but frequently ' 
marred his public and political prosperity. Alas! | 

* When king of Navarre, Sully received a letter from him, i 

.describing the state of absolute poverty in which he then was. i 

** I am, says this amiable and worihy prince, in a letter to me" j 

—thus writes Sully — "very near my enemies, and hardly a I 

horse to carry me into the battle, nor a complete suit of armour \ 
to put on : my shirts are all ragged, my doublets out at elbow, 
my kettle is seldom on the fire, and these two last days I have 

been obliged to dine where I could, for my purveyors have in- ^ 

formed me that they have not wherewithal to furnish my ta- ] 

3)16." i 



FRENCH HISTORY. 131 

for human nature ! how imperfect is it even in the 
best of men ! 

At a very early age he gave signs of the future 
gi-eatness of his character. The value of the fruit 
was betokened by the excellence of the flower. An 
incident, which happened in his youth, points out 
the spirit with which he perused Plutarch, and the 
conclusions he drew from this author. Henry was 
about eleven years old ; and the lives of Camillus 
and Coriolanus had just been read to him. La Gauch- 
erie (his tutor) asked him which of the two heroes 
he wished most to resemble. The young prince, 
charmed with the virtues of Camillus, who forgot his 
revenge to save his country, not only gave him the 
preference, without a moment's hesitation, but blamed 
the wrath of Coriolanus, who, deaf to the entreaties^ 
of his countrymen, carried fire and sword into his^ 
native land, to satisfy his vengeance. Repeating the 
the exploits of both the Romans, Henry extolled the 
generosity of Camillus, as much as he execrated the 
crime of Coriolanus. La Gaucherie seeing him thus 
inflamed, said to him, " You also have a Coriolanus 
in your family ;" and related to him the history of 
the Constable Bourbon, telling him that this great, 
though persecuted man, made use of his talents to 
serve the cause of Charles the Fifth, the most bitter 
enemy of his king; that he returned to his own 
country at the head of a formidable army, carrying 
every where terror and desolation j and, m shorty 
t 



132 



BEAUTIES OF 



that his hnplacable hatred and fatal success were al- 
most the destruction of France. During this recital 
the young prince was much agitated, rose and sat 
down again, walked about the chamber, stamped with 
his feet, and even shed tears of rage, which he vainly 
endeavoured to conceal ; at length, unable to contain 
himself any longer, he seized a pen, and running to 
a genealogical table of the house of Bourbon, that 
hung up in the room, erased the name of the con- 
stable, and wrote in its place that of Chevalier 
Bayard. 

The chief and almost the only objection to Henry, 
on the part of the great majority of the people over 
whom he was called to reign was, that he had been 
educated a Protestant. This was aggravated by what 
the Catholics called a relapse. For, being on a visit 
to the court of France, at the time of the massacre 
of St. Bartholomew, he was compelled by Charles the 
Ninth, as the only chance of preserving his life, to 
declare himself a Catholic; but on recovering his 
liberty, two years afterwards, he resumed his former 
religion, and became, as has been stated, one of the 
leaders of the reformed armies. 

The Huguenots, on whom the king had hitherto 
chiefly depended, were now comparatively few, and 
possessed of little power. He was therefore under the 
necessity of receiving the crown at the hands of his 
Catholic subjects, and compelled to consider his 
Protestant advisers more in the light of personal 



FRENCH HISTORY. 133 

friends, than as acknowledged ministers ; from whom, 
although he honoured and loved them in private, he 
was forced in public to withhold that appearance of 
confidence and esteem which would have created 
dangerous jealousy on the part of their rivals. 

Among the most affectionate of his friends, the 
most faithful of his servants, and the most able of his 
Protestant counsellors, was Rosny, Duke of Sully, 
to whom posterity is indebted for the principal re- 
cords of his reign, and the most interesting anecdotes 
of his private character and court. 

The leading nobility of France were, like the mass 
of the people, attached to the Catholic religion ; and 
almost immediately after his accession the king found 
it would be veiy difficult, if not totally impossible, 
to retain his throne, should circumstances oppose 
them to his government. After several meetings had 
been held, they determined to support him on one 
condifcn only, viz., that he should renounce Cal- 
vinism, and embrace the Romish faith. The pro- 
position was declined by Henry; and, by the con- 
nivance of the pope, the old Cardinal of Bourbon, his 
uncle, was proclaimed under the title of Charles the 
Tenth. The Duke of Mayenne w^as appointed his 
lieutenant-general, and, at the head of a very supe- 
rior force, proceeded to attack Henry, against whom 
several battles were fought. In one of them the king 
was in imminent danger, and rallied his flying troops 
by lamenting, with a loud voice, " that in all France 
12. 



134 BEAUTIES OF 

tliere were not fifty gentlemen bold enough to die 
with their sovereign." This exclamation brought 
him immediate relief; and in the evening after the 
contest had ended, Henry gave it as his opinion, 
^'that either the Duke of Mayenne was not so great 
a soldier as had been supposed, or that he had re- 
spectfully favoured him that day, and reserved him 
for a better occasion." 

But a more important battle — the battle of Ivry — 
was fought on the 14th March, 1590; and decided 
the destiny of Henry llie Fourth. 

Having minutely inspected all the preparations for 
the encounter, the king, mounted on a noble bay 
courser, took his station in the centre of his army ; 
and with an undaunted countenance, yet with tears 
in his eyes, reminded all those who could hear him, 
that not merely his crown, but their own safety, de- 
pended on the issue of that day. Then, joining his 
hands, and lifting up his eyes to heaven, m said 
aloud, " O Lord, thou knowest all things ; if it be 
best for this people that I should reign over them, 
favour my cause, and give success to my arms ; but 
if this be not thy will, let me now die with those 
who endanger themselves for my sake." A solemn 
silence and profound awe was in an instant succeeded 
by universal shouts of " Vive le Roi !" throughout 
bis enthusiastic soldiery.* A signal victory was 

* Om account states, that Henry gave notice to begin the 



FRENCH HISTORY. 135 

gained by Henry, and he immediately marched to 
Paris, with a view to reduce that city to obedience. 
Jts inhabitants, at that time, amounted to 2,300,000? 
besides the garrison, about 4000 ; and when the siege 
commenced, they had not provisions to last them a 
month. Scarcity, and then famine, were soon felt; 
every species of animal that could be obtained was 
devoured ; nay, it is said, the very bones of the dead 
were dug from their graves, ground into a sort of 
flour, and formed into paste for bread ! Pestilence, as 
usual, trod in the steps of femine ; and in three months 
12,000 persons perished. The generous king, ima- 
gining he might gain the affections of the besieged, 
sometimes permitted, and sometimes connived at the 
introduction of provisions ; but such supplies pro- 
duced a contrary effect to what he had hoped, and 
induced the citizens still to hold out, until the siege 
was raised by the arrival of the duke of Parma to 
Iheir xiid. 

Several battles w^re subsequently fought, and, on 
the whole, to the disadvantage of Henry^vho carried 
on the war under the ban of excommunication, and 
with the greater proportion of the influential nobles 
of the kingdom opposed to him. 

The following account given by Sully of the cap- 
ture of a fort during the war, is of a character more 
than commonly romantic : 

battle, in these characteristic words: " You are Frenchmen—* 
am your king — there is the enemy." 



136 BEAUTIES OF 

" The manner in which Feschamp was surprised 
is so remarkable, that it well deserves a particular re- 
cital. When this fort was taken by Biron from the 
league, there Avas in the garrison that was turned out 
of it, a gentleman called Bois-rose, a man of sense and 
courage, who, taking exact observation of the place 
he left, and having concerted his scheme, contrived 
to get two soldiers, whom he had bound to his in- 
terest, to be received into the new garrison which 
was put into Feschamp by the royalists. The side 
of the fort next the sea is a perpendicular rock, 600 
feet high ; the bottom of which, for about the height 
of twelve feet, is continually washed by it, except dur- 
ing four or five days in the year, when for the space 
of three or four hours, it leaves fifteen or twenty 
fathom of dry sand at the foot of the rock. Bois-rose^ 
finding it impossible to surprise, in any other way, a 
garrison who guarded with great care a place lately 
taken, did not doubt of accomplishing his design, if 
he could enter by that side which was thought inac- 
cessible, idls he endeavoured, by the following con- 
trivance, to perform. He had agTeed upon a signal 
with the two soldiers he had corrupted, one of whom 
waited for it continually upon the top of the rock, 
where he posted himself during the whole time of 
low water. Bois-rose, taking the opportunity of a 
very dark night, brought to the foot of the rock, in 
two large boats, fifty resolute men, chosen from among 
the sailors ; and having provided himself with a thick 



FRENCH HISTORY. 137 

rope, equal in length to the height of the rock, he tied 
knots at equal distances, and run short sticks through, 
to support the men as tliey climbed. Ojie of the two 
soldiers having waited six months for the signal, no 
sooner perceived it, than he let down a cord from 
the top of the precipice, to which those below fasten- 
ed the cable, and by this means it was v/ound up to 
the top, and fastened to an opening in the battlement, 
with a strong crow run through an iron staple made 
for that purpose. Bois-rose, intrusting the lead to two 
sergeants of whose courage he was well convinced, 
ordered the fifty men to mount the ladder, one after 
another, with their weapons tied round their bodies; 
himself bringing up the rear, to prevent all hope of re- 
turning, which indeed soon became impracticable; for 
before they had ascended halfway the sea rising more 
than six feet, carried off their boats, and set their cable 
floating. The impossibility of withdrawing from a 
difficult enterprise, is not always a security against 
fear, when the danger appears almost inevitable ; and 
if the mind represents to itself these fifty men, sus- 
pended between heaven and earth, in the midst of 
darkness ; trusting their safety to a machine so inse- 
cure, that the least want of caution, the treachery of 
a mercenary associate, or the slightest fear, might 
precipitate them into the abyss of the sea, or dash 
them against the rocks ; add to this the noise of the 
waves, the height of the rock, their weariness and 
exhausted spirits — it will not appear surprising, that 
12* 



138 BEAUTIES OP ^ 

the boldest amongst them trembled; as m effect he 
who was foremost did ; this sergeant telling the next 
man that he could mount no higher, and that his heart 
failed him. Bois-rose, to whom this discourse pass- 
ed from mouth to mouth, and who perceived the truth 
of it by their advancing no farther, crept over the bo- 
dies of those that were before him, advising each to 
keep firm, and got up to the foremost, whose spirits 
he at first endeavoured to animate; but finding gen- 
tleness unavailing, he obliged him to mount by prick- 
ing his back with a poniaid, and doubtless, if he had 
not obeyed him, would have precipitated him into 
the sea. At length, with incredible labour and fatigue,^ 
the whole troop got to the top of the rock a little 
before the break of day, and was introduced by the 
two soldiers into the castle, where they slaughtered 
without mercy the sentinels and the whole guard. 
Sleep delivered them up an easy prey to the assail- 
ants, who killed all that resisted, and possessed them- 
selves of the fort." 

But to return to Henry the Fourth : under cir- 
cumstances of more than ordinary difficulty — circum- 
stances, indeed, that rendered his life unsafe from day 
to day, either from open war, or the dagger of the 
assassin, and influenced by the representations of his 
most tried and assured friends, the king resolved to 
pursue a course which, however politic it may have 
"keen — however necessary it might have become, cer- 
tainly detracts from his reputation, and tarnishes his 



FRENCH HISTORY. 139 

honour. One thing is certain — he was left to make 
his election ; to decide whether he would change his 
religion, or relinquish his crown.* He chose the 
former, and the 25th of July, 1593, was the day ap- 
pointed for receiving him openly into the bosom of 
the church. Early in the morning, he proceeded, 
accompanied by a large concourse of noblemen and 
knights, and a vast host of people, to the church of 
St. Denis, where he knocked at the gate. The bishop 
of Bourges, in his pontificial robes, asked who he 
was, and what he wanted .'' He answered, Henry, 
king of France and Navarre; and added, that he 
wished to be admitted into the Catholic church. 
"Do you desire this from the bottom of your heart, 
and have you truly repented of all your errors ?" 
demanded the bishop. Henry fell on his knees, 
professed his penitence, abjured Protestantism, and 
swore to jRend the Apostolic Catholic Church, at the 

* So implacable was the hatred of the Catholics against this 
monarch, whom they accused of favouring the Huguenots, that 
the preachers were encouraged to go to any length in insull- 
ing him. One of them, Father Gonthieri, indulged in such 
abusive language against the king, even in his presence, that 
the Marechal d'Ornano said to him, if he had been in Henry's 
place, he would have ordered him to be thrown into the river^ 
A capuchin, preaching at Saumur, and explaining the passage 
in which it is said the bystanders spat in our Saviour's face, 
exclaimed, " Who think you these were? they were such as 
those who maintain the heretics, who pay their ministers wages» 
&c. Yet you are for peace with them !— for my part I fear no 
one: I am for war." 



140 BEAUTIES OP 

hazard of his life. He was then seated on a tempo 
rary throne, repeated the confession of faith, high 
mass was celebrated ; and amid the roar of cannon 
the " converted" king withdrew. The Papal abso- 
lution of course followed. It is certain that this 
change was merely nominal — a stroke of policy by 
which he obtained, or at least secured, the kingdom 
of France. 

The articles which the pope required him to accept 
and swear to observe, in order to his absolution, on 
becoming a Catholic, furnish us with a general out- 
line of the spirit of popery at this time in France. 
They were as follows : 

That he should be subject to the authority and 
mandates of the holy see and the Catholic church; 
that he should abjure Calvinism and all other here- 
sies, and solemnly profess the true faith; that he 
should restore the exercise of the Cathalp religion 
in Beam, and nominate bishops with suitable livings 
therein without delay; that he should endeavour 
to rescue the Prince of Conde from the influence of 
heretics, and place him so as that he might be in- 
structed and edified in the Catholic religion ; that the 
concordats should be henceforth duly observed ; that 
no heretic should be nominated to any Catholic be- 
nefice ; that the decrees of the council of Trent should 
be published and observed ; that ecclesiastics should 
be relieved from all oppression, and defended against 
all iniquitous and violent usurpations ; that the king 



FRENCH HISTORY. 141 

should so conduct himself, and especially in confer- 
ring offices and honours, as to show that he uniformly 
esteemed Catholics, and confided in them in prefer- 
ence to others-, that he should say the chaplet of 
Notre Dame every day, the litanies on Wednesday, 
the rosary of Notre Dame on Saturday; should ob- 
serve the fasts and other institutions of the church, 
hear mass every day, and high mass on festival days ; 
and, finally, that he should make confession and com- 
municate in public four times at least every year. 

On the 26th of December, 1594, an attempt was 
made to assassinate the king. Being at Paris, in his 
apartments in the Louvre, where he gave audience to 
Messieurs de Ragny and de Montigny, who entered, 
with a great number of other persons, to do homage 
after their election as Knights de St. Esprit, Henry 
was in the act of stooping to embrace one of them, 
when he received a blow in the face from a knife, 
which the murderer let fall as he was endeavouring 
to escape through the crowd. The wound was at 
jSrst supposed to be mortal ; but the king speedily 
removed the apprehensions of his friends, it being 
immediately perceived that his lip only was wounded; 
for the stroke having been aimed too high, the force 
of it was stopped by a tooth which it broke. The 
traitor was discovered without difficulty, though he 
dexterously dropped the knife and mingled among 
the confused attendants. He was a scholar, named 
John Chatel, and on being interrogated, readily an- 



142 BEAUTIES OF 

swered, that he came from the college of Jesuits, con- 
fessing that those fathers were the instigators of the 
crime. The king having heard him, said, with a 
degree of gaiety which few persons could have as- 
sumed on such an occasion, " he had heard from the 
mouths of many persons that the Society never loved 
him, but nov/ he had proof of it from his ownP 
Chatel was delivered up to justice ; and the prosecu- 
tions against the Jesuits which had been suspended, 
were renewed with greater rigour than before, and 
terminated in the banishment of the whole order 
from the kingdom. Father John Guignard was about 
this time hanged for his pernicious doctrines against 
the authority and life of kings. 

Chatel was put to death by the most excruciating 
tortures, his father was also banished, and his house 
razed to the ground. 

By the treaty of Vervins, in 1598, and the edict 
of Nantes, which granted to the Huguenots the right 
of public worship and other advantages, the realm of 
France was alike freed from external and internal 
war : and the king had leisure to supply the wants 
and remedy many of the evils that oppressed his king- 
dom, so long the prey of domestic discord and fo- 
reign invasion. His discernment in the choice of 
ministers was peculiarly happy. His chancellors, 
Chivergny and Bellievre ; his secretaries of state, 
Jeannin and Villeroi, and the Baron de Rosny, to 
whom was confided the management of the finances. 



inE.VCII HISTORY. 143 

were men of wisdom and integrity ; and under their 
direction his people began to flourish, and continued 
to increase in happiness and prosperity. 

But the king's excessive devotion to female society 
was certainly prejudicial to his interests, and contri- 
buted materially to ruffle the even ciarrent of his life 
by throwing many an obstacle in its way. Sully 
lays before us various pictures of the troubles in 
which this dangerous passion involved his royal 
master : one may perhaps suffice to show, that true 
virtue is always true wisdom, and that unlicensed 
pleasure is as far from real happiness, as the smooth 
countenance of the hypocrite or the flatterer is from 
honest integrity and genuine worth. 

Henry's love for Mademoiselle D'Entragues, Mar- 
chioness of Vernueil, was one of those unhappy dis- 
eases of the mind, which, like a slow poison, preys 
upon the principles of life ; for the heart, attacked in its 
most sensitive part, feels indeed the whole weight of 
its misfortune, but by a cruel fatality has neither 
the power nor the inclination to free itself from 
the thraldom. : and this was the case with Henry, who 
suflered all the insolence, and caprices, that a proud 
and ambitious woman is capable of inflicting. The 
Marchioness of Vernueil had wit enough to discover 
the power she had over the king, and she never ex- 
erted it but to torment him 5 so that they seldom met 
without quarrelling. The queen, having been in- 
formed that the king had given this lady a promise 



144 BEAUTIES OF 

of marriage (under the expectation of a divorce), ne- 
ver ceased soliciting him to regain it from her. In 
consequence of this, Henry demanded it of the mar- 
chioness, who, upon the first intimation that he ex- 
pected it to be resigned, threw herself into the most 
violent transport of rage imaginable, and told the 
king imperiously that he might seek it elsewhere. 
Henry, that he might finish at once all the harsh 
things he had to say to her, began to reproach her 
with her connexions with the Count d'Auvergne, her 
brother, and the malecontents of the kingdom. She 
would not condescend to clear herself of this im- 
puted crime ; but, assuming in her turn the language 
of resentment, told him that it was not possible to 
live any longer with him; that as he grew old he 
grew jealous and suspicious; and that she would 
with joy break off a correspondence for which she 
had been too ill rewarded to find any thing agreeable 
in it, and which rendered her, she said, the object of 
public hatred. She carried her impudence so far as 
to speak of the queen in such contemptuous terms, 
that, if we may believe Henry, he was upon the^point 
of striking her ; and, that he might not be forced to 
commit such an outrage on decency, he was obliged 
to quit her abruptly, full of rage and vexation, which 
he was at no pains to conceal, and swearing he 
would make her restore the promise that had raised 
this storm. 

This scene affords a more useful practical lesson 



TRENCH HISTORY. 145 

iffian a thousand pages could possibly give. It speaks 
for itself, and needs no comment. 

Henry certainly hoped for more from the fair sex 
than even we have right to expect in modern times, 
when so many proofs have been afforded that the 
" soul is of no sex." 

" That I may not repent," said he to the admirable 
Sully, " of taking so dangerous a step, nor draw upon 
myself a misfortune, which is said with justice to ex- 
ceed all others — that of having a v/ife disagreeable in 
person and mind — I shall require in her I maiTy se- 
ven perfections; beauty — prudence — softness — wit- 
faithfulness — riches — and royal birth !" No wonder 
that his minister added, " There was not one in all 
Europe with whom he appeared satisfied." 

The hifanta of Spain he w^as disposed to honour, 
if with her he could have married the Low Coun- 
tries. With Arabella of England (daughter of Charles, 
earl of Lennox) he would have been satisfied, had 
she possessed, as was reported, a right to the crown. 
To the German princesses he felt a decided objec- 
tion, comparing them, very ungallantly, to "hogs- 
heads of wine." Some of the princesses of France 
were too brown; others not of very high birth; many 
too young; while others were declared to be too old. 
In truth, the monarch was very difficult to please. 
But about this' period he became so infatuated by the 
arts and beauty of the fair Gabrieile D'Es trees (the 
13 



146 BEAUTIES OF 

predecessor of the Marchioness of VernueiO after- 
•\vards created by hun duchess of Beaufort, that slie 
absohitely aspired to share his crown. Fortunately 
for the glory of his name, and the honour of France, 
the steadiness of Jus faithful Sully counteracted her 
influence ; although it was not until after her death 
that Henry married his second wife, Mary of Medi- 
cis, daughter of the grand duke of Florence, — an ex- 
traordinary, but ambitious and unamiable woman, and 
one by no means formed by nature to be his wife. 

Of the kindness, cheerfulness, benevolence, gene- 
rosity, warmth and constancy of friendship, integri- 
ty, and, in short, of nearly all the virtues that render 
a man immortal even in this world, the historians of 
Henry the Fourth have preserved a vast number of 
anecdotes. The following are, perhaps, among the 
most interesting and characteristic. 

In the midst of his family he was no longer the 
king, but the father and the friend. He would have 
his children call him " Papa," or "Father;" and not 
" Sire," according to the new fashion introduced by 
Catherine de Medicis. He used frequently to join in 
their amusements ; and one day, when the great mo- 
narch, the restorer of France and the peacemaker of 
Europe, was playing on all fours, with the Dauphin, 
his son, on his back, an aml^assador suddenly enlered 
the apartment and surprised him. in this attitude. The 
monarch, without moving from it, said to hiir:, *•' Mt.n- 
sieur PAmbuscadeur, have you any children r" " Y osSj 



FREXCH HISTORY. j47 

sire," repliGcl he. " Very well ; tlie-.i I shall finish 
my race round the chamber." 

He was ever ready to make reparation, when the 
impetuosity of his temper had led him (or a moment 
to be unjust. A certain colonel, to wiiom he way at- 
tached, came to take orders previous to an engaga- 
iTip.nt, and availed himself of the opporLunity to re- 
quest payment of a sum which was due t;) him. Tho 
king hastily told him it was ui.like a man of honour 
to ask for money when he ouglu to have been attend- 
ing to the orders for battle. Immediately after, whea 
IJenry was ranging his troops, he went up to the of- 
ficer, and said, ''• Colonel, we are now in the held — • 
perhaps we shall never meet again — it is not just that 
\ should deprive a brave gentleman of his honour — I 
came tiiersfore to declare, that I know you to be aa 
honest man, and incapable of committing a base ac- 
tion." Saying this, he embraced him with great af- 
fection. The colonel burst into tears, and replied^ 
"Oh, sire, in restoring to rag my honour, you have 
deprived me of life — I should be unworthy of your 
favour did I not this day sacrifice it on this field." 
He fell in the action. 

He would frequently say, " I daily pray to God for 
three things : first, that he would be pleased to par- 
don my enemies ; secondly, to grant me the victory 
over my passions, and, especially, over sensuality; 
and, thirdly, that he would enable me to make a right 



148 BEAUTIES OP 

use of the authority he has given me, that 1 may ne* 
ver abuse it.^' 

He had not only a piercing and strong sight, but a 
very quick sense of hearing. D'Aubigne mentions 
an example of the latter which shows, at the same 
time, his pleasant humour, and the familiar manner 
in which he lived with his friends. " The king," said 
he, " was once in bed at La Garnache, in a large state 
chamber, and his bed surrounded with curtains and 
a thick frieze. Frontenac and I lay in an opposite 
corner of the same room, in a bed enclosed in the 
same manner; and speaking jocularly of the king, in' 
as low a voice as possible, with my mouth close to 
his ear, Frontenac repeatedly told me he could not 
hear, and asked what I said. The king heard, and 
reproached him for his deafness, saying, '• D'Aubigne 
tells you that I want to make two friends by doing- 
one good office.' We bade him fall asleep," he adds, 
" for that we had a great deal more to say of him." 

His raillery, ever intended in good humour, was 
like that kind of wit which is generally agreeable, 
though not always delicate and safe. — Going to the 
Louvre, attended by a number of noblemen, he asked 
a poor woman, who was driving her cow, what was 
the price of it; and on offering her much less than 
its value, she replied, that she saw he was no dealer 
in cows. " What makes you think so .?" said th.9 
king. " Ventre saint Gris ! Don't you see how many 
calves are following me r" 



FRENCH HISTORY. 149 

When his gardener complained that nothing would 
grow on the soil at Fontainbleau ; " Friend," said he, 
looking at the duke of Epernon, " sow it with Gas- 
eons ; they will thrive any where." 

A prelate once spoke to him about war, and, as it 
may be imagined, very little to the purpose. Henry 
suddenly interrupted him, by asking what saint's day 
that was in his breviary — a stroke which pointed out 
his bad rhetoric, and loaded him with ridicule for 
having talked of war before Hannibal. Jl has been 
said that his tailor, becoming suddenly a lawyer, was 
advised to present to the king a book of regulations 
and schemes which he pretended were necessary for 
the good of the nation : Henry took it, and having 
perused a few pages, which abundantly proved the 
folly of its author ; " Friend," said he, to one of his 
valets, " go, and bring hitlier my chancellor to take 
measure of me for a suit of clothes, since here is my 
tailor wanting to make laws." 

Henry read with pleasure all that was published 
concerning his operations; for during his reign ew^ry 
one enjoyed the liberty of speaking, writing, and 
printing his opinion; and truth, which he sought after 
continually, came in its turn even to the throne to seek 
him. One of the greatest compliments that can be 
paid a king is to believe him willing to listen to the 
voice of truth. It was a long time ago said, that un- 
happy must be the reign where the historian of it is 
13* 



150 BEAUTIES OF 

obliged to conceal liis name. L'Etoile relates, that 
Henry having read a book called Tlie Jlnti- Soldier^ 
asked his secretary of state, Villeroi, if he had seen 
this work; and upon his replying in the negative, — ■ 
*' It is right you should see it," continued he, "for it 
is a book which takes me finely to task, but is still 
more severe on you." He was once desired to punish 
an author who had written some free satires on the 
court. " It Vv'ould be against my conscience," said the 
good prince, " to trouble an honest man for having 
told the truth." 

Henry frequently amused himself with hunting* 
On one occasion, while he was eager in the chase, he 
suddenly heard a great noise of sportsmen and i\ogs. 
at a distance, and expressed much displeasure at the 
liberty wluch those persons, whoever they might be, 
were taking in his forest by interfering with his pas- 
time. Soon the clamour became more distinct, and 
within a few paces of him and his attendants they 
saw a black fellow, whose huge appearance and figure 
astonished and overawed them : with a hoarse and 
frightful voice he cried, J^PaliencJez vous^ attend me; 
Mhrntendez voiis^ hear me; or, Ame.ndez vous^ reform 
yourself — and vanished, for neither the king nor thos3 
who were with him were certain of the words. The 
woodcutters and peasants assured them that this was 
a frequent visiter, whom they called the "Grand 
Hunter," and to whom they were accustomed,— 
though they could account for neither his appearance 



FRENCH HISTORY. 151 

or disappearance, nor for the great noise of men and 
dogs which invariably accompanied him. 

Henry pressed De Thou to publish his history, 
and took this excellent work under his own protec- 
tion : silencing the cabals and clamours of the cour- 
t.ers and priests ag-ainst it. " it is J," said this prince, 
in a letier he wrote on the subject to his ambassador 
at Rome, "it is I that have given orders for its pub- 
lication and s^ale." He regarded the work as a monu- 
ment of genius raised on the altar of veracity. 

His observation to a Spanish ambassador deserveis to 
be recorded. Being surrounded and pressed upon by 
his officers at court, the proud Spaniard was sliocked 
at so much familiarity. "You see nothing here,", 
said the king ; " ihey press upon me much more in 
the day of battle." 

" If I were desirous," he once remarked on the 
opening of parliament, " to pass for an elaborate ora- 
tor, I would have introduced more fine words here 
than good will : but my ambition aims at something 
higher than to speak well." 

It is not to be wondered at, that a king so beloved 
was frequently wearied by the compliments bestowed 
on him by liis subjects. Sully mentions that in one 
of his tours through the provinces, he was tempted 
to take by-roads to avoid the long speeches of his 
*< faithful people," one of whom hailing him with a 
repetition of such titles as " Most great, most benign, 
most merciful king, &c." "Add, also," said Henry^ 



152 BEAUTIES OF 

impatiently, " most weary." Having twice told an- 
other provincial orator, that he really must shorten 
his speech, which the worthy man was not at all in- 
clined to do ; he hastily rose up, observing, as he 
quitted the room, " You must say the rest, then, to 
Mr. William," — the tor.rt jester, who, in conformity 
with the usage of the times, always accompanied 
him. 

The king, while residing at Fontainbleau, was one 
day, in the ardour of the chase, left at some distance 
from his courtiers and attendants: a countryman, 
sitting at the foot of a tree, his chin resting on his 
stick, accosted the king, who was passing near him, 
with these words, "Do you think, sir, there is any 
chance of our good king Henry's passing this way? 
I have walked twenty miles to see him." " Why, 
there is some chance," said Henry, "but if you could 
go to Fontainbleau you would be certain of seeing 
him there." "Ah," said the old man, " but I am so 
weary." " Well, then," said his majesty, " get on 
my horse, behind me, I will take you towai-ds it." 
The countryman accordingly mounted, and,, after 
riding some way, asked the king how he should 
know his majesty from his courtiers } " Easily 
enough," replied the king, "his majesty will wear 
his hat, his courtiers will be bare-headed." This sa- 
tisfied him, and soon after they met the attendants, 
who, immediately taking off their hats, his majesty 
jumping off his horse, turns round to the astonished 



FRENCH HISTORY. 153 

countryman. " Truly, sir," said the fellow, " either 
you or I must be the king !" 

The duke of Epernon, colonel-general of France, 
governor of Guicnne, &c., died in 1 644^ aged eighty- 
eight. He was the oldest duke and peer of France, 
an officer of the crown of the longest standing, ge- 
neral of an aimy, governor of a province, knight of 
every order, and counsellor of state. He was called 
the king's wardrobe, because of the great number of 
posts he held in his household. There is recorded 
a very fine answer of his to Henry the Fourth, who 
one day in anger reproached him with not loving him. 
The duke, without being surprised at the king's rage, 
answered coolly, but with great gravity, "Sire, your 
Majesty has not a more faithful servant than myself 
in the kingdom. I would rather die than fail in the 
least part of my duty to you ; but. Sire, as for friend- 
ship, your Majesty well knows that is only to be 
acquired by friendship." The king happily knew 
how to admire great sentiments, as well as great ac- 
tions ; and his indignation was converted into esteem. 

But the best and greatest of monarchs, as well as 
the meanest of his subjects, must in time submit to 
the mandate of a greater? j^ing than he. Death cannot 
be bribed by riches nor av/ed by power; and Henry 
the Fourth was summoned to follow his predecessors 
to the grave, long before, according to the ordinary 
course of nature, his people might have looked for 
tliis even/, or been satisfied that it was time for him 



154 BEAUTIES OP 

to throw off the cares of government, rid himself of 
the troubles and anxieties of life, and be at rest. 

The narrative of his death is a more than usually 
sad one, and has been detailed with minule accuracy 
by several historians, and only differing in some minor 
points: it took place on the 14th of May, 1610. 

Francis Kavaillac, a native of Angouleme, of low 
birth, educated a monk, by profession a schoolmaster^ 
and afterwards a solicitor or inferior law agent, had 
come to Paris, for what end is not clearly ascertained. 
Under a religious melancholy zeal for the old or new 
league, and being without any associates, he might 
either have devised the plot himself, and come of 
bis own accord to execute it; or been inveigled into 
it by wicked and designing men, who had discerned 
the fitness of his temper for their plan : but being re- 
pulsed in his first attempt to reach the king's person, 
be returned again to Angouleme. Here, lioweve;-, ha 
was unable to rest : and animated by zeal, by frenzy, 
or by whatever cause, internal or external, he came 
back to Paris to perpetrate the execrable deed. 

In the afternoon, about four o'clock, of the 14th, 
agitated and sleepless, the king, hoping to find more 
rest for his mind in the activity of his body, pro- 
posed to visit Sully at the arsenal, and to see, as he 
passed, the preparations making at the Britlge of 
Notre Dame and at the Hotel de Ville, for the cere- 
mony of the queen's entry into the city, which was 
to take place the next day. In the coach went with 



FRENCH HISTORY. 155 

him from the Louvre, the Duke ol'Epernon, who sat 
on the same side vvitli lum, and the Duke de Montba- 
zon the Mareschal de Lavardin, Roquelaine la Forcpj 
Mirabeau, and Liancour. The carria^^e passing from 
tlie street St. Honore into that of Ferronerie, was pre- 
vented from proceeiling by a cart on the right loaded 
wilii wine, and one on the left loaded with hay. The- 
attendants on foot went forward by another passage, 
intending to be ready to join it as soon as the carts 
had moved. Ravaillac, ever on the watch, seized this 
moment: he observed the position of the king; and 
mounting on the liind wlieel, with his knife struck 
him on the left side, a little below the heart. His 
majesty had just then turned towards the Duke 
d'Epernon, and was reading a letter; when, feeling 
himself struck he exclaimed,'- I am wounded !" At 
the ?ame instant the assassin, perceiving that the point 
of his knife had been stopped by a rib, repeated the 
blow with such quickness, that not one of ihose who 
were in the coach had time to oppose or even to 
notice it. After the second stroke, which pierced the 
heart, the blood gushed from his side and mouth, and 
the king expired, murmuring, it is said, in a faint 
and dying voice, "It is nothing." The murderer 
aimed a third stab, which the Duke d'Epernon re- 
ceived in his sleeve. 

The lords who were in the coach got out instant-* 
ly, but vvitli such precipitation, that they hindered 
each other from seizing ihe regicide; Vthoj howcverj 



BEAUTIES OF 156 " 

glorying in the infernal deed, stood, uncovered, osten- 
tatiously brandishing the reeking knife in his hand. 

The death of their beloved monarch was for many ; 
hours concealed from ills people, who were led to i 
believe that he was only wounded. But when it was X 
known throughout Paris that he was certainly dead, :i 
the wliole city presented a scene of which it is im- "i 
possible for language to give an adequate description j ' 
some became insensible through grief; others ran fran- 
tic about the streets ; and it appeared as if every living , 
being within its walls had suffered the severest do- ■ 
mestic calamity — as if some child or parent had been ] 
torn from the heart of each family — so universal and 
deep was the mourning for the king, who was, in ' 
truth, " the father of his people." 

Such was the fate of Henry the Fourth, in later i 
times denominated the Great — in the fifty-eighth year > 
of his age, ihe thirty-eighth of his reign as King of \ 
Navarre, and the twenty-first as King of France. , 
By his first wdfe, Margaret of Valois, he had no chil- ■ 
dren ; Jby his second, Mary de Medicis, he left three ; 
sons and three daughters. 

The dreadful scene that followed the murder of the | 
king, is recorded as one of the most horrible cases of j 
punishment that was ever inflicted by a judicial court i 
upon any human being — however heinous his guilt. ^ 
► On the 17th of May, the trial of Francis Ravaiilac i 
commenced : the great object of his judges was to in- j 
duce him to confess who were his accomplices — ^as 



FRENCH HISTORr. 157 

it was generally believed, that there were many impli- 
cated ill the murder. Suspicion rested chiefly on the 
Jesuits. To the very last, however, the assassin per- 
sisted in declaring that he had neither counsellor nor 
abettors in the crime — that he committed it without 
communicating his intention to any one — that he did 
it because he had heard the king intended to engage 
in a war against the Pope, and because he conceived 
himself called by Omnipotence to reraove him out 
of the way of the Catholics. 

On the 27th of May, the court met and issued Uie 
following order : 

"• We, the presidents and several of the councillor* 
being present, the prisoner Francis Ravaillae was 
brought into court, who having been accused and 
convicted of the murder of the late king, he was or- 
dered to kneel, and the clerk of the court pronoun- 
ced the sentence of death upon him, as likewise thai 
he should be put to the torture, to force him to de- 
clare his accomplices ; and his oath being taken, he 
was exhorted to redeem himself from the torments 
preparing for him, by acknowledging the truth, and 
declaring who tliose persons were that had persua- 
ded, prompted, and abetted him in that most wicked 
action, and to whom he had disclosed his intention of 
committing it," 

He said, "By the salvation I hope for, no one but 
myself was concerned in this action." He was then 
ordered to be put to the torture of brodequia. Oa 
14 



15S - BEAUTIES OF 

the first wedge being driven, he cried out, " God have- 
mercy upon my soul, and pardon the crime i have 
committed ! J never disclosed ray intentions to any 
one." This he repeated as he had done in his inter- 
rogation. When the second wedge was inserted, he 
vociferated, with loud cries and shrieks, " I am a 
sinner; I know no more than 1 have declared by tha 
oath i have taken, and by the trulh which I owe to. 
God and to the court. I beseech the court not ta 
force my soul to despair." The executioner continu- 
ing to drive the second wedge, he exclaimed, ^''My 
God, receive this penance as an expiation for the 
crimes I have committed in the world ! Oh God! ac- 
cept these torments in satisfaction for my sins ! By 
the faith \ owe to God, ! know no more than what 
I have declared. Oh! do not force my soul to 
despair ! " The third wedge was then driven lower, 
near his feet, at which a universal sweat covered his 
body, and he fainted away. The executioner put 
some wine into his mouth, but he could not swallow 
it; and being quite speechless, he was released from 
the torture, and water thrown upon his face and haudso 

He soon recovered, and was led out to execution, 
amid the execrations of the enraged populace, who 
■would have torn him in pieces, if he had not been 
protected by a large guard. On the scaflbld the tor- 
tures again commenced. 

On the fire being put to his right hand, holding 
llie knife with which he had stabbed the king, lie 



FRENCH HISTORY 1.59 

eried out, "Oh, God!" and often repeated, "Jesu 
Marie !" While his breast, Sec, were being* torn with 
red-hot pincers, he renewed his cries and prayers; 
during wliich, though often admonished to acknow- 
ledge the truth, he persisted in denying that he had 
any accomplices. The furious crowd continued to 
load him with execrations, saying, that lie ought not 
to have a moment''s respite: afterwards, melted lead 
and scalding oil were, in turn, poured upon his 
wounds, which made liim shriek aloud, and pour 
forth doleful cries and exclamations. 

lie was then drawn by four horses for half an 
hour, at intervals. Being again questioned, and ad- 
monished, he persisted in denying that he had any 
accomplices ; while the people of all ranks and de- 
grees, both near and at a distance, continued tlieir 
exclamations, in token of their grief for the loss of 
the king. Several persons set themselves to pull the 
ropes with die utmost eagerness; and one of the no- 
blesse, who was near the criminal, alighted from his 
Iiorse, that it might be put in the place of one that 
was tired with pulling. At length, when he had been 
drawn for a full hour by the horses without being dis- 
membered, the people, rusliing on in crowds, threw 
themselves upon him, and with swords, knives, sticks, 
and other weapons, they struck, tore, and mangled 
ids limbs, and violently forcing them from the exe- 
tiutioaer, dragged them throug^h the streets with the 



160 BEAUTIES OP 

greatest rage, and burnt them in diiferent parts of the 
city. 

From this horrid scene the reader Avill turn with 
disgust. It is, however, well to preserve it, in order 
to show how completely justice may sometimes act 
the part of a butcher, and forget decency, in the de- 
sire to satiate vengeance. The case is almost with- 
out parallel, and must be regarded as a blot upon the 
page of history, which neither provocation nor po- 
licy could ever justify. 

By those who knew him best, Henry the Fourth 
was most beloved. The able and excellent Sully^ 
who, on account of his religion, could not be admit- 
ted into any order, instituted one for himself. He 
wore about his neck, and more especially after the 
death of Henry the Fourth, a chain of gold or dia- 
monds, to which was suspended a large gold medal, 
exhibiting in relievo the figure of that great prince. 
He used often to take it out of his bosom, stop and 
contemplate it, and then kiss it with the utmost re- 
verence, and he always carried it about his person 
while he lived. 

Sully records an extraordinary instance of the 
union of amazing talents with as amazing depravity. 
" Old Servin (a nobleman of the court) came to me," 
he writes, "and presented his son, begging that I 
would use my endeavours to make him a man of 
some worth and honesty; but he confessed it was 



FRENCH HISTORY. 161 

wliat he dared not hope; not through any want of 
understanding or capacity in the youth, but from his 
natural inclination to all kinds of vice. His father 
was in the right. What he told me, having excited 
iny curiosity to gain a thorough knowledge of young 
Servin, I found him to be at once both a wonder and 
a monster ; for 1 can give no other name to that as- 
semblage of the most excellent and most pernicious 
qualities united in him. Let the reader represent to 
himself a man of a genius so lively, and an under- 
standing so extensive, as rendered him scarcely igno- 
rant of any diing tliat could be known ; of so vast 
and ready a comprehension, that he immediately 
made himself master of whatever he attempted ; and 
of so prodigious a memory, that he never forgot what 
he had once learned. He possessed a knowledge of 
philosophy and the mathematics, particularly fortifi- 
cation and drawing. Even in theology, he was so 
well skilled, that he was an excellent preacher, when- 
ever he had a mind to exert that talent, and an able 
disputant either for or against the reformed religion. 
He not only understood Greek, Hebrew, and all the 
languages which we call learned, but also all the dif- 
ferent jargons, or modern dialects ; which latter 
tongues he accented and pronounced so naturally, 
and so perfectly imitated the gestures and manners 
both of the several nations of Europe, and the parti- 
cular provinces of France, that he might have been 
laken for a native of all or any of these countries ; 
14* 



162 



BEAUTIES OP 



and this quality he applied to counterfeit all sorts of 
persons, wherein he succeeded wonderfully. He was, 
moreover, the best comedian and greatest droll that 
perhaps ever appeared ; he had a genius for poetry, 
and had Avritten many verses; he played upon almost 
all instruments, was a perfect master of music, and 
sung most agreeably and justly : he likewise could 
say mass — for he was of a disposition to do as well 
as to know all things. His body was perfectly well 
suited to his mind : he was light, nimble, dexterous, 
and fit for all exercises ; he could ride well ; and in 
dancing, wrestling, and leaping, he was admired ; 
there are not any recreative games that he did not 
know, and he was skilled in almost all mechanic arts. 
But now for the reverse of the medal. Here it ap- 
peared that he was treacherous, cruel, cowardly, de- 
ceitful ; a liar, a cheat, a drunkard, and a ghitton ; a 
sharper in play; immersed in every species of crime ^ 
a blasphemer, an atheist; in a word, in him might be 
found all the vices contrary to nature, honour, reli- 
gion, and society; the truth of which he himself 
evinced with his last breath ; for he died in the flower 
of his age, wholly corrupted by his debaucheries, 
and with the glass in his hand, cursing and denying 
God." 

Another anecdote, of a very different nature, Sully 
relates of himself. 

" Entering one day," he says, *' without any at- 
tendants, into a very large chamber, I found a man 



FRENCH HISTORY. 163 

walking about it very fast, and so absorbed in thought, 
that he neither sahited me, nor, as I imagine, per- 
ceived me. Observing him more attentively, every 
thing in his person, his manner, his countenance, and 
his dress, appeared to me to be very uncommon. His 
body was long and slender- his face thin and with- 
ered ; his beard white and forked ; he had on a large 
hat which covered his face *, a cloak buttoned close 
at the collar; boots of an enormous size; a sword 
trailing on the ground ; and in his hand he held a 
large double bag like those that are tied to saddle- 
bows. I asked him, in a raised tone of voice, if he 
lodged in that room, and why he seemed in such a 
profound contemplation. Affronted at the question, 
without saluting me, or even deigning to look at me, 
he answered me rudely, that he Vv'as in his own 
apartment, and that he was thinking of his affairs, as 
T might do of mine. Although I was a little sur- 
prised at his impertinence, J, nevertheless, requested 
him very civilly to permit me to dine in the room ; 
a proposal which he received with grumbling, and 
which was followed by a refusal still less polite. 
That moment, three of my gentlemen pages, and 
gome footmen, entering the chamber, my brutal com- 
panion thought fit to soften his looks and words, 
pulled off his hat, and offered me every thing in his 
power. Then suddenly eyeing me with a fixed look,. 
asked me, with a wild air, where I was going ? I 
told him, to meet the king. ' What, sir ." he replied^ 



164 BEAUTIES OF 

* has the king sent for you ? Pray tell me on what 
day and hour you received his letters, and also at 
what hour you set out?' It was not difficult to dis- 
cover an astrologer by these questions, which he 
asked me with invincible gravity. I was farther 
obliged to tell him my age, and to allow him to ex- 
amine my hands. After all these ceremonies were 
over; 'Sir,' said he, with an air of surprise and re- 
spect, ' I will resign my chamber to you very wil- 
lingly ; and, before long, many others will leave their 
places to you less cheerfully than I do mine.' The 
more I pretended to be astonished at his great abili- 
ties, the more he endeavoured to give me proofs of 
them — promising me riches, honours, and power." 
The astrologer then withdrew; and oiiraiiuhor heaixl, 
or at least says, nothing farther about him. 

The annexed illustrates Sully's own character. 
^' One day," he observes, " when a very fine ballet 
was representing at the theatre, 1 perceived a man 
leading in a lady, with whom he was preparing to 
enter one of the galleries set apart exclusively for 
females. He was a foreigner; and I easily distin- 
guished of what country, by the swarthy colour of 
his skin. ^Monsieur,' said I to him, 'you m.ust seek 
for another door, if you please; for I do not imagine 
ihat with such a complexion you can hope to pass for a 
fair lady.' ' My lord,' answered he, in very bad French, 

* when you know who I am, 1 am persuaded you 
will not refuse to let me sit among those fair ladies ; 



FRENCH HISTORY. 1G5 

fiince, swarthy as I am, my name is Pmieiitel; 1 have 
the honour to be very well acquainted with his ma- 
jesty, who often plays with me.' This was indeed, 
too true ', for this man, whom I had already heard 
often mentioned, had gained immense sums from the 
king. ' How ! ventre de ma vie ! said 1 to him,^ af- 
fecting to be extremely angry, ' you are then that fat 
Portuguese who every day wins the king's money? 
Pardieu ! you are come to a bad place ; for 1 neither 
like, nor will suffer such people to be here.' He at- 
tempted to speak, but I would not listen to him. ' Go, 
go,' said I, pushing him back, ' you shall not enter 
here 5 I am not to be prevailed upon by your gibber- 
ish.' The king afterwards asked him how he liked 
the ballet, saying, he thought it was very fine, and the 
dancing exquisite. Pimentel told him he had a great 
inclination to see it, but that he met his grand finan- 
cier, with his negative front, at the door, who turned 
him back. He then related his adventure with me ; 
at which his majesty was extremely pleased, and 
laughed at his manner of telling it; nor did he after- 
wards forget to divert the whole court with it." 

Mademoiselle de Scudery flourished in the reign 
of Henry IV., and died in 1801. According to the 
dictum of phrenologists, she must have had the organ 
of imagination "strongly developed," for the cele^ 
brated Monsieur Costar says, " that out of her own 
head she composed eighty volumes /" 

In her " Conversations," in which much knowledge 



166 BEAUTIES OF 

of the world is displayed, the following passage occurs 
concerning dedications, which is so curious, thai we 
make no apology for transcribing it. "There was a 
certain writer who had three dedicatory epistles to 
the one book, for three persons very different in rank 
and merit, with a view of making use of that which 
could be turned to the best account, and a third per- 
son negotiated the matter. As things happened, he 
dedicated the book to the best bidder, but the worst 
man. Another, who now rests from Jiis labours, had 
prepared a dedication, or ratiier a panegyric; but 
the subject of it losing his places before the book 
was printed, it was suppressed. — It is well known, 
that a certain country author came to Paris, with a 
very elaborate dedication to Cardinal Richelieu ; but, 
finding him dead on his arrival, he evinced his dex- 
terity by modelling it into a panegyric on the queen, 
^Mary of Austria. There was another, who, after 
highly, and as justly, commendisig a living person, 
gave an opposite turn to all he had said, because the 
individual died before he had rewarded the author in 
a manner commensurate with liis fancied merit. Yet 
I think neither of these came up to the artifice of one 
Rangouza, who, having printed a collection of letters 
•without paging or order, save the bookbinder's direc- 
tions, so to arrange them, as that each person to 
-whom a copy of the volume was presented should 
lind his own first, and taking precedence of all others; 
which could not but be bountifully rewarded, as being 



FRENCH HISTORY. 167 

a very fiatlering distinction. These letters were justly 
termed ^i^olden leUers ; for the author boasted that, 
one with another, they brought him near thirty pis- 
toles each." 

So much for the dedications of those days. Ma- 
demoiselle de Scudery, we may remark, obtained the 
tide of the Sappho of her age. 

Lewis Birlo Crillon, a gentleman of Avignon, as 
remarkable on account of the peculiarities in his 
temper as his intrepidity, which had procured him 
the name of Dreadnought, having been sent to the 
Duke of Guise after the reduction of Marseilles, the 
duke resolved to try his courage, and agreed with 
some gentlemen to give a sudden alarm before Cril- 
Ion's quarters, as if the enemy had taken the place ; 
at the same time he ordered two horses to the door, 
and going up into Crillon's room, told him all was 
lost ; that the enemy were masters of the post and 
town ; that they had forced the guards, and broke and 
put to flight all those that opposed them ; that find- 
ing it impossible to resist any longer, he thought it 
was better for them to retreat than, by suffering them- 
selves to be taken, add to the glories of the victory ; 
that he had therefore ordered two horses to be brought, 
which were ready at the door, and desired he would 
make haste, for fear they should give the enemy time 
to surprise them. Crillon was asleep when the storm 
began, and was hardly awake whilst the Duke of Guise 
was saying all this to him j however, without being al 



168 BEAUTIES OP 

all discoiicerled by so hot an alarm, he called for his 
clothes and his arms, saying, they ought not, on too 
slight grounds, to give credit to all that was said of 
the enemy ; and even if the account should prove true, 
it was more becoming men of honour to die with 
swords in their hands, than to survive the loss of the 
place. The Duke of Guise not being able to prevail 
on him to change his resolution, followed him out of 
the room, but when they were got halfway down 
stairs, not being able to contain himself any longer, 
he burst out laughing, by which Crillon discovered 
the trick tliat had been played upon him ; he there- 
upon assumed a look much sterner than when he only 
thought of going to fight, and squeezing the Duke of 
Guise's hand, said to him, swearing at the same time, 
"Young man, never make a jest to try the courage 
of a man of honour; for hadst thou made me betray- 
any weakness, I would have plunged my dagger into 
thy heart!" and then left him without sayiiig a word 
more. 

The reign of Henry the Fourth has occupied many 
pages; but it is, without doubt, the most remarkable,- 
interesting, and important, of the History of France, 
and therefore well merits the space devoted to it. 

LOUIS THE THIRTEENTH 

Ascended the throne of France in 1610, at the age 
of nine years, the queen-mother, iVIary de Medicis, 



FRENCH HISTORY 169 

holding the reins of government as regent of the 
kingdom during his minority. 

The duke of Sully, deeply afflicted and distressed 
by the assassination of his friend and master, and 
suspecting that he might be equally obnoxious to the 
contrivers of the murder, immediately shut himself 
up in the Bastile, of which he was governor. He 
had not only received many warnings that his life 
was in danger, but after he had actually set out to 
wait upon the queen, Vitri, the captain of the guard, 
met him, and counselled him to return. It had re- 
quired many messages, by persons of the highest 
rank, who assured him that his fears were ground- 
less, to induce him to pay the visit ; and his reluct- 
ance so to do might, perhaps, have been the chief 
cause of the neglect with which he was subsequently 
treated. He solicited and obtained permission to re- 
tire to his castle of Sully, on the Loire, and died at 
the advanced age of eighty-two, in December, 1641. 

The young king, on his bed of justice, according 
to established custom on such occasions, confirmed 
the queen-mother in the regency. 

In the year 1811, negotiations were carried on for 
the union of Louis with the Infanta of Spain ; and 
the duke of Mayenne was sent as ambassador to that 
country. The marriage articles were signed, and 
the princess addressed as Queen of France. After 
some days, the duke, being about to return home, 
asked her if she had any commands for the king, his 
15 



170 BEAUTIES OP 

master, now her betrothed husband. "Tell him,'^ 
Faid she, "that I am impatient to see him." This an- 
swer appearing indelicate to ihe Countess of Altamira, 
her governess ; " what," said she, " will the king of 
France tliink of a princess so ardent for marriage ,''" 
«•' Have yon not taught me," replied tlie Infanta, "al- 
ways to speak the truth .^" 

The two great favourites and advisers of the queen- 
regent were Leonora Galigai and her husband, Con- 
chini, who had followed the queen, on her marriage, 
from Italy into France. The latter became first lord 
of the bed-chamber, and both amassed great weahh 
under the protection of their mistress. Conchini was 
courted by the nobles in the most servile manner, and 
■was created Mareschal D'Ancre. At length, becoming 
every where hated for his arrogance and cupidity, lie 
determined on quitting France with the money he 
had collected. The inhabitants of Paris were, at this 
period, in a state of insurrection, mounted guard on 
their gates, and allowed no person to pass in or out 
without a passport; consequently, the Mareschal 
D'Ancre, when he attempted to leave ihe city in his 
carriage, was stopped by force. " Villain," said he 
to Picard, a shoemaker, then ofiicer of the guard, 
*'do you not know me?" "That I do," replied Pi- 
card, firmly, and wiih somewhat of contempt; "but 
you shall not go by without a passport." Subse- 
quently, however, he obtained an order of egress 
from the commissary, and sent his groom a:id two 



FRENCH HISTORY. 171 

valets to beat the shoemaker. They executed their 
commission so unmercifully, that the unfortunate 
man almost died under their hands: they were, how- 
ever, immediately arrested, and in a iew days hanged 
at the very gale where the afiair took place The 
Mareschal, fuidirig he had not power enough to save 
tlie lives of his servants, made another efibrt to leave 
France-, but his wife refusing to accompany him, he 
remained, and engaging in several cabals to regain the 
influence he had lost, his death was resolved upon by 
the nobles, with the consent of the young king, who 
dreaded and disliked him. Vitri, the captain of the 
guard, agreed to accept the office of assassin. On the 
mareschaPs entering the Louvre in the morning, as 
usual, Vitri seized him hy the arm, saying he was his 
prisoner. 'I'he mareschal was surprised, and strug- 
gled ; oilier attendants of the gunrd instantly advanced, 
and shot him dead wiih their pistols, then stabbed the 
corpse with their swords, and kicked it with their 
feet. Mis wife was afterwards charged with having 
meditated the death of the king, and being subjected 
to a mock trial, was condemned and executed. 

The power of the leading nobles became altoge- 
ther overbearing ; and the king w^as little better than 
a cipher in the state, his youth and natural imbecility 
rendering him unable to limit or control their in- 
fluence. As an evidence of the weakness of the fjo- 
vernment, it is stated that two soldiers of the guards 
Cought a duel ; the one killed the other ; and the sur- 



172 BEAUTIES OF 

vivor was apprehended and imprisoned in the abbey 
of St. Germains. The colonel-general demanded 
that he should be tried by a conrt-martial ; and, oil 
being refused, broke open the prison and took him 
jiway by force. A complaint having been laid before 
parliament, the colonel-general was ci^d to appear, 
and answer for his conduct. He obeyed, but came 
iLttended by six hundred gentlemen, and a large body 
of his guards. The parliament was intimidated, and 
instantly adjourned, several of the members being in- 
sulted by the soldiers as they passed out. ■ 

A long and unprofitable war with Spain ; a severe 
persecution of the Huguenots ; domestic difference* 
between the nobles who sided with the favourites of 
the queen, and those who took part with the mo- 
narch — form the leading features of the uninteresting 
reign of Louis XIII. 

By the advice of his most influential minister — the 
celebrated Cardinal Richelieu, who determined on 
the entire subjugation of the Huguenots in France — 
in the year 1627 proceedings were taken against 
them. The Huguenots themselves, often dissatisfied 
and restless, furnished the king with frequent and 
plausible reasons for the course which was subse- 
quently pursued. The people of Rochelle in parti- 
cular had given much cause of complaint. In I62I5 
they appeared in open arms £;gainst his authority; 
and for some time refused all attempts at accommo- 
dation, although advised to accept terms by their an- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 173 

cient and tried friend Du Plessis Mornay. When this 
excellent and accomplished man was offered a sum 
of ] 00,000 crowns to surrender Saumur, of which 
place he w^as governor, into the hands of the king, 
he returned an answer which deserves to be record- 
ed : — " I might have had millions," said he,^ indig- 
nantly, " if J had preferred riches to honour and a 
good conscience." In 1627, the Rochellese were 
again in arms to maintain their rights and liberties, 
having received encouragement from England, and 
been assisted with ammunition and provisions by the 
celebrated duke of Buckingham, the favourite minis- 
ter of James I., and afterwards of his son Charles. 
The French army blockaded the city, and endea- 
voured to reduce it by famine. The besieged became 
greatly distressed, but resolved to endure all priva- 
tions and sufferings rather than surrender. The 
mayor, Guiton, a man of superior understanding and 
extraordinary courage, animated his fellow-citizens 
by his words and conduct to submit to any extremity 
in preference to abandoning their civil and religious 
liberties. When he accepted the office of chief ma- 
gistrate, which he did with reluctance, shortly before 
the commencement of the siege, holding a poniard 
in his hand, he said, " I take the office of mayor, 
since you insist upon it; but I do it on condition 
that I shall be allowed to plunge this dagger into the 
lieart of him who shall first propose to surrender the 
city, — not excepting myself from this doom; for 
15* 



174 



BEAUTJES OF 



which purpose, the weapon shall lie on the table of 
this public hall, in which we are now assembled." 
Some time afterwards, one of his friends pointed out 
to him a person dying of hunger. " Are you sur- 
prised at this ?" said Guiton ; " it will be the fate of 
both you and me, unless our friends are able to suc- 
cour us." And again, when he was told that all the 
people were dying, he replied, coolly, " Well, be it 
so *, it is enough if one shall remain to secure the 
gates." After having endured almost incredible suf- 
ferings, Rochelle, however, did surrender on capitu- 
lation ; but not without its defenders having been 
guarantied personal security, the protection of pro* 
perty, and the free exercise of their religion within 
the#city. When the besiegers entered it, the conta- 
gion arising from the' number of unburied dead made 
it unsafe for them to move along the streets; the sur- 
vivors having been so exhausted, languid, and care- 
less, that they had neither strength nor spirit to inter 
those who had perished; in fact, they were them- 
selves mere walking skeletons. Above 15,000 per- 
sons died of famine or pestilence during the thirteen 
months the siege lasted. The submission of all the 
other Protestant towns and fortresses shortly fol- 
lowed. Richelieu was himself present before Ro- 
chelle. 

The Cardinal possessed the most unlimited con- 
trol over Louis. He even went so far as to procure 
the imprisonment of the queen-mother in Compiegne, 



FRENCH HISTORY. 1^ 

and surrounded the king with his creatures and his 
spies. 

It was artfully and successfully argued by him and 
his minions, that the kingdom could not be safe while 
the queen-mother ^vas permitted to cabal in the very 
Cabinet; they therefore resolved to place lier, at least 
for a time, at a distance from the seat of government. 
On the 23d of February, Louis went away early 
to liunt, and left Mary de Medicis under a guard in 
Compiegne : even there, Richelieu thought her still 
too near Paris ; and requests, entreaties, nay threats, 
were employed to prevail upon her to remove to An- 
gers or Moulins \ but she positively refused to change 
her situation, unless she were forced : at last, however, 
she proposed of her own accord to go to Capelle, oa 
the frontiers, whence she hoped easily to pass into 
the Spanish Netherlands. On her arrival there, being 
refused admittance, she wrote the following letter to 
the king, her son : " As my health declined daily., and 
the Cardinal seemed determined that I should die in 
prison, 1 thought it necessary, to save my life and my 
dignity, to accept the offer made me by the Marquis 
de Varde, to take refuge in Capell/C, of which he is 
governor, and where your power is absolute. 1 re- 
solved, therefore to go thither; but when within three 
leagues of that place, two gentlemen, sent by the Mar- 
quis, informed me that I conld not enter the city, as 
he had no longer the charge of it, having committed 
it to his father. 1 leave you to judge of my distress, 



176 



BEAUTIES OP 



thus disappointed, guarded by cavalry, destitute of a 
residence, and forced to retire from your dominions. 
The whole treatment which I have received, I have 
now discovered, from the testimony of those employ- 
ed as subordinate agents, is the device of the Cardinal 
to urge me to this extremity." She then proceeded 
to Brussels, where she was most courteously received 
by the Archduchess Isabella ; and where, at a distance 
from her personal friends, she could no longer annoy 
the minister nor distract the councils of the kingdom. 
She remained in comparailve ease for some years, 
till the commencement of the calamities in Great 
Britain, in 1641, when she quitted the Netherlands, 
hoping to obtain refuge and support, in her destitute 
state, in England, with her daughter. Queen Henrietta, 
the wife of Charles the First; but she found both 
Henrietta and her husband too deeply involved in 
their own distresses to afford her any relief or assis- 
tance. They introduced her, however, to the French 
ambassador, Bellievre, and joined her in entreating him 
to represent her homeless and dependent state to the 
king, her son ; and to plead with him to receive her 
back to his court, or at least to make due provision 
for her support and protection •, she engaging to reside 
any where in France that he might be pleased to ap- 
point, and to live quietly, not intermeddling in public 
aflairs, or giving occasion of uneasiness or trouble to 
any of his ministers. Bellievre refused to interpose 
for he was prohibited from holding intercourse with 



FRENCH HISTORY. 177 

her : but at the same time that he made her believe he 
woukl do nothing, he sent an account of this inter- 
view privately to the cardinal and found he was still 
implacable. The king and queen of England them- 
selves w-rote in her behalf; and were assured in an- 
swer, that to receive her into France would be to en- 
danger the state ; that the malcontents would naturally 
resort to her ; and that such was her temper, she could 
not refrain from encouraging them : finally, it was re- 
Commended to her to retire into Florence, where her 
son promised to make a suitable provision for her: 
to this she would not agree, but went to Cologne, 
where she lived in comparative indigence until she 
died, an event which took place on the 3d of July, 
1642. 

The next object of the cardinal was to humble so 
completely the Parliament of France, as to make it 
the mere machine by which the king's orders were 
executed. The court of Aides of Paris, however, 
acted with some shov/ of spirit, in opposing the ab- 
solute power of Louis and his imperious minister; 
for the Comte de Soissons having intimated to them 
that he should attend the court at a certain hour, in 
the name of his majestj/, in order to have a money 
edict registered ; when the time came, the court was 
deserted by the v/hole of its members, and no person 
was left either to receive the count or to register the 
edict. Richelieu was offended, tlie court was threat- 
ened, and purchased pardon at the expense of honour^ 



178 BEAUTIES OF 

A special civil commission, in place of a military 
order, was, in 1632, granted for the trial of the 
Mareschal Marignac, wjio was charged with high 
crimes and misdemeanors in the conduct of the 
anny, and vvho had certainly been guilty of some 
peculations usually connived at in other ofFjcers. His 
real offence, however, was, that during Louis's illness 
at Lyons, he had advised the queen-mother, if the 
king died, to appreliend Richelieu and his friemls, 
and to deal with them as circumstances might diiect. 
After his trial had begun, the judges were suspected 
of acting too leniently; the court was therefore dis- 
solved, and another appointed, of such a nature as to 
render the conviction of the accused certahi. Tliey 
proved the cliarge, and, after diligent search, found 
an old law, which declared peculators liable to pu- 
nishment in body and goods {coiifiscalion d-z corps ct 
de bif.ns). 'i'his they interpreted to mean death and 
confiscation ; and Marignac was condemned by thir- 
teen judges out of three and twenty. He was be- 
headed almost immediately after, at the age of sixty 
years. 

The foregoing and other anecdotes of a similar na- 
ture, sufficiently prove that, at this period of French 
history, liberty and public virtue had fled, and that 
arbitrary power had fixed its iron throne in the king- 
dom. 

It is not to be supposed that the arrogant church- 
man was without enemies among a people, many of 



FRENCH HISTORY. 179 

whom retained the bold and uncomproinising love of 
freedom which had been so general during the reign 
of tlie great and good Henry IV. The Duke of Or- 
leans, liroiher to the king, and the Comte de Soissons, 
resolved on the destruction of the cardinal : they only 
hesitated whether it were better to undermine him 
^vith the king, and so to ruin him publicly, or to re- 
•uove him by private assassination ; and finally de- 
termined on the latter. They employed four of their 
own domestics who were to be ready, on a certain 
signal, to put him to death. On the dismissal of the 
council, the two princes were to detain him in con- 
versation, at the foot of the stairs, after Louis was 
^one. They did so; the men stood ready, only 
waiting for the sign. But, instead of giving it, the 
duke, feeling himself extremely agitated, ran up 
stairs, and the count, not knowing his motive, al- 
lowed Richelieu to retire in safety. In 1642, how- 
ever, a more fatal conspirator against his life made his 
appearance — one whose arm cannot be stayed either 
by force or cunning. He was taken suddenly ill of a 
fever, and was informed that within twenty-four houi*s 
he must die. In the fifty-eighth year of his age, and 
the eiglueenth of his ministry, he departed this life, 
liaving declared, during his last moments, that " he 
forgave Ivis enemies," of wliom he had many, " as 
freely as lie hoped for the Divine forgiveness." 

Richelieu was one of ilie most remarkable men of 
the age in which he lived. Ambitious, proud, irrila- 



ISO BEAUTIES OF 

ble, and domineering, he presents to posterity the 
true picture of a Romish priest, who considered that 
every thing should be subservient to the interests of 
the church, and that the end always sanctified the 
means. Dissimulation was so much employed by 
him, that it seemed systematic and natural : yet he 
was seldom deceived himself, except by those who 
flattered him ; — and with flattery he was never satis- 
fied, unless it became hyperbolical. Although not 
learned, he patronised, or at least affected to patronise, 
learned men; not, it was asserted, from any real love 
towards them, but because such patronage added to 
his reputation, gratified his vanity, and gave him 
eclat. An anecdote is related of him, which, if true, 
places his character in a very mean light. When 
Corneille, the great French dramatist, published "The 
Cid," it was translated into all the languages of Eu- 
rope, besides those of Slavonla and Turkey. Riche- 
lieu sent for the author, and offered him any sum he 
might demand, if he would permit him to be consi- 
dered tlie author : Corneille preferred fame to riches, 
and refused : for which, it is said, the ambitious priest 
never forgave him. He was, however, subsequently 
obliged to concur in public opinion, and settled a 
pension on the poet. 

Louis Xlll. died a.d. 1643, leaving behind him no 
very favourable reputation. His great defect was in- 
decision of character, which rendered him timid, re- 
served, and unsocial. Two descriptions of persons 



FRENCH HISTORY. 181 

became absolutely necessary to him — one to govern 
•the country, another to amuse bim; and it is but rea- 
sonable to suppose, that the latter was invariably sup- 
•plied by the former. Richelieu treated him, in some 
respects, like a child ; and terrified him into submis- 
sion by tlireatening" to leave him, or by depicting to 
him, in glowing and exaggerated colours, the dangers 
to which his kingdom was exposed. Louis feared 
rather than loved the cardinal ; yet sacrificed every 
thing, even his own mother, to that statesman's will. 

The weak and childish king was fond of all kinds 
of show and ceremony; and of surrounding himself 
with idle and useless, but gaily-dressed youths. It 
is related in Sully's Memoirs, that he once sent for 
bis father's excellent minister, from his retirement, to 
appear at court. The order was obeyed. 

'• Monsieur de Sully," said Louis to him, " I sent 
for you, as being one of the chief ministers of the 
king, my father, and a man in whom he placed great 
.confidence, to ask your advice, and to confer with 
you upon some afiairs of importance." The Duke 
of Sully seeing none but young courtiers about the 
king, who ridiculed his dress and the gravity of his 
manners, made this answer : " Sire, I am too old to 
change my habits but for some good cause. When 
the late king, your father, of glorious memory, did 
me the honour to send for me, to confer with me upon 
matters of importance, the first thing he did was to 
send away the buffoons." The king seemed not to 
16 



182 BEAUTIES OP 

disapprove of this freedom ; he ordered every one to 
withdraw, and remained for some lime alone with M. 
de Sully. 

Of the literary men who flourished during tlie 
reign of Louis the Thirteenth, the most distinguished 
after Kichelieu himself — whose fame, however, was 
owing to his wealth and station— and Corneille, were 
Malherbe, De Thou (the historian), Pasquier, and the 
philosopher Descartes. 

Of these eminent and highly-gifted individuals, a 
few anecdotes cannot be considered out of place. 

Corneille gives the following, as a history of him- 
self, to his friend M. Pellisson : 

En jnafiere d'amour je suis fort inegal ; 
J'en eciis assez bien, ct le fais assez mal, 
J' ai la plume feconde, et la bouche sterile ; 
Bon galant an theatre, et fort niauvaise en ville, 
Et Ton pent rarement m'ecouier sans ennni 
Que quand je me produis par la bouche d'autri. 

Of Malherbe, who flourished in Henry's reign, it is 
said, that one day a lawyer of high rank brought him 
some verses to look at, adding that a particular cir- 
cumstance had compelled him to write to them. Mal- 
herbe having looked over them with a very super- 
cilious air, asked the gentleman whether he had been 
sentenced to make those damnable verses, or to be 
hanged ? 

Steven Pasquier was a lawyer, no less celebrated 
for ills honesty than for the singularity of his reli- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 183 

gious opinions. A print of him was published without 
hands; the oddiiy was explained by an epigram, the 
substance of which is, "lio\v*I Pasquier without 
hajids ?" " Yes, ye griping lawyers, to indicate how 
strictly I abstained, as the law enjoins, from fleecing 
my clients. Would to God you could be shamed out 
of your rapacity!" 

M. de Thou had tlie most modest diffidence of hini' 
self, and the most gentle bearing of any man of his 
time. The English estimated his history so highly, 
that by an Act of Parliament, a set of booksellers, 
who were preparing a very correct and fine editioa 
of it, were exempted, in that work, from the usual 
duties on paper and printing. The following me- 
thod of furnishing a table, related by him, is very- 
curious : 

" In a journey," says M. de Thou, " which I made 
into Languedoc, 1 paid a visit to the bishop of Mende, 
at his delightful seat in that province, who treated us 
rather with the splendour of a nobleman than the 
simplicity of an ecclesiastic. We observed, however, 
that all the wild fo^d wanted either a leg, a wing, or 
some other part. ' Why,' said the prelate, merrily, 
*it does not look very elegant, indeed; but you must 
excuse the greediness of my caterer, who is always 
for having the first bit of what he brings.' Upoa 
being informed that his caterers were no other 
than eagles, we expressed a desire to be informed 
of the method of their service ; which our friend 



184 BEAUTIES OF 

accordingly did. The eagles build their nests in the- 
cavity of some high steep rock, which, when the 
shepherds discover, they erect a little hut at the foot 
of the precipice, to secure themselves, and watch 
when the birds fetch prey to their young ; and as 
the moment they deposite the game in their nest 
they fly off in quest of more, the shepherds run up 
the rocks with astonishing agility, and carry it away, 
leaving some entrails of animals instead, that the nests 
may not be forsaken. In general, before the plun- 
derers reach the nest, the old or young eagles have 
torn off some part of the bird or animal ; which is the 
reason why the bishop's luxuries appeared in so mu- 
tilated a state : the quantity of game, however, amply 
compensates for the defect, as the lord and lady eagle 
always choose the best the fen, forest, or hill afford." 
A nobleman, who was very ignorant, being at the 
same table with Descartes, and seeing him eat of two 
or three nice dishes with pleasure — " How!" said he^ 
"do philosophers meddle with dainties?" "Why 
not," replied Descartes ; " is it to be imagined that the 
wise God created good things only for dunces ?" 

LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH 

Ascended the throne of France on the 14th of May, 
1643, at the age of five years. By the will of his father,. 
the queen-mother, Anne of Austria, was appointed re- 
gent during the minority, but under the direction and 
control of a council of regency, consisting of the: 



FRENCH HISTORY. 185 

Duke of Orleans, the Prince of Cond^, Cardinal Ma- 
zarin, Pierre Seguier, chancellor, Bouthillier superin- 
tendent of finance, and Chavigne his son. The king- 
dom, allhough in a slate of internal peace, still con- 
tinued to be oppressed with a foreign war. Spain 
and Austria were at this time lier enemies, hi 1648, 
however, chiefly by the exertions and valour of the 
celebrated Mareschal de Turenne, a treaty was con- 
cluded at Minister in Westplialia, between France and 
Austria, which left her Spain only lo contend with. 
The peace was a seasonable relief to Fiance, for she 
%vas then agitated and distracted by internal factions, 
and the commencement of actual b.ostilities at lionie, 
which originated in the metropolis and even in the 
parliament itself The profusion of the late as well 
as of the present court had led to the imposition of 
several new and heavy taxes, at a tin.e w hen the slate 
necessities required a decrease laiher tl.an an increase 
cf the public burdens. Parlip.menl had again and 
again protested against the impolitic course pursued; 
but it was always compelled, eillier by persuasion or 
threats, to register the money edicts and give them 
the authority of law. /\t length the chambers united 
in a powerful combination against the government; 
and the spirit by which they were anim.ated naturally 
spread itself among the people, w ho assembled tu- 
multuously in various parts of the city, and ultim.ately 
prepared themselves for a well-arranged and vigorous 
plan of insurrection. 

16* 



183 



BEAUTIES OF 



The government and the parliament shortly came': 
to an open rupture ; the latter proceeded to stop the 
issues of money, and the former to vent its indigna- 
tion on the persons most obnoxious to the court. In 
the end, however, tiie king and his ministers found 
themselves under the necessity of making some con- 
cessions ; but tliey availed themselves of the very 
earliest opportunity to intimidate the opposiiion,. 
called (it is not clearly ascertained why) Frondeurs,, 
and to bring them completely under subjection to the 
authority of the crown. With this view, Cardinal 
Mazarin, then the most influential minister of the king, 
seized and imprisoned Pierre Broussei and the Sieur 
de Blancmesnil, two of the most zealous and turbulent 
of the party, and the most prominent champions of 
the people. The consternation of the citizens soon 
changed to fury. They rushed in thousands to the 
palace, demanded the liberation of the prisoners, and 
loudly threatened vengeance upon all by whose au- 
thority tliey had been confined. The queen^ at first,, 
regarded these proceedings as of little consequence; 
but the coadjutor of Paris, Paul de Gondi — afterwards 
the Cardinal de Retz- — expressed a different opinion, 
and offered his services to go and pacify the mob. 
'^The people are only dangerous," said the queen, 
*'in tlie eyes of such as wish them to be so." " Would 
to God, Madam," replied the coadjutor, '^ every one- 
would speak to you with as much sincerity as I i\o. 
I deplore the dangerous state of the public, who ar^ 



FRENCH HISTORY. 187 

my flock, and I am alarmed for the consequences to 
your Majesty's authority and government." De Gondi 
was then requested to endeavour to appease them ; 
and he partially succeeded : but on his return to court, 
his reception was so cold, and, as he considered, so 
ungrateful, that he retired to devise the means of a 
more serious conspiracy, of which he delermhied 
himself to be the secret head. He was a man utterly 
without principle, but bold and eloquent, and looked 
on the factious as powerful tools in the hands of hitn 
who could acquire and use them. By the aid of se- 
veral subordinate agents, such a system was formed 
and understood that a signal was sufficient to raise, 
arrange, and arm, the whole population of Paris The 
queen imprudently resolved to prohibit the parliament 
from assembling; and for that purpose ordered the 
commissioners to go in procession through the streets.. 
The people were thus roused to acts of violence ; and 
three companies of the guards were sent to disperse 
them : tlie coadjutor then issued his orders, the alarm- 
druTn was beat, every agent was at his post; and one 
of them, named Argenteuil (a gentleman of rank, disr- 
giiised as a mason), at the head of a large body of 
ciiizens, attacked the soldiery, killed several, took 
from them their standard, and put them to flight; and 
witfiin two hours, the whole city was in open rebel- 
lion. 

Under these circumstances, the parliament re- 
solved to go in a body to the palace to request the 



188 BEAUTIES OF 

liberation of their members, Broussel and Blancmesnil, 
and to insist on knowing the name of the person who 
had advised their apprehension and imprisonment. 
This latter resolution was evidently aimed at Cardinal 
Mazarin. Accordingly two hundred and fifty of the 
members set forth from their several chambers, 
cheered as they passed along by the people, who 
exclaimed, " Fear not the court ; we w'^ill protect you.'* 
They were received by the king, the queen, the duke 
of Orleans, the cardinal, &c. The first president 
stated their request freely and eloquently, and urged 
the necessity of yieding to the demands of one hun- 
dred thousand men in arms, enraged beyond measure, 
and prepared for the execution of any excess. The 
queen, naturally proud and intrepid, although she 
perceived the danger, refused to submit. '* The reme- 
dy of the evil was," she said, " in the power of those 
who had created it; for her part she would persevere 
in maintaining inviolate the authority committed to 
her on behalf of the king." 

They then retired : but a part of them, strongly im- 
pressed with the imminent risk to all parties — them- 
selves, the city, the court, and the kingdom, returned 
and renewed their importunities. The cardinal at 
last promised to liberate the prisoners, Broussel and 
Blancmesnil, on condition that the parliament would 
discontinue their political meetings, and confine them- 
selves entirely to their civil functions. This proposal 
requiring to be considered, and the greater part of the 



FRENCH HISTORY. 189 

mfimbers being of opinion that their deliberation 
and judgment would not be held free and valid with- 
out retiring from the court to their own hall, they 
revived to go thither. When the people saw them re- 
turning, and understood that they had not succeeded, 
they murmured, hardly allowing them to pass the 
first and second barricadoes ; but when they came to 
the third (a la croix du ierreur)^ a journeyman cook, 
named Roguenet, advanced with two hundred men,, 
and putting his halberd to the first president's breast, 
*' Return traitor," said he ; " obtain for us the libera- 
tion of Broussel, or fetch us the chancellor and the 
cardinal as hostages, until he shall be liberated, or 
else submit to a violent death." He added, "Go^ 
assure the queen, that if within two hours she shall 
not have satisfied the people, two hundred thousand 
armed men will present themselves before her, tear 
the cardinal in pieces in her presence, and set her 
palace on fire." These menaces were accompanied 
with so many insults and daring outrages, that the 
greater number of the members threw themselves- 
among the multitude, and escaped. The first presi- 
dent stood his ground intrepidly, until he had rallied 
around him a considerable body, with Mdiich he went 
back to the palace. Having again obtained an au- 
dience, he represented witjji earnest eloquence the 
obstacles they had encountered, which had forced 
them to return and the necessity imposed on them to- 
insist on the queen's compliance with the wishes of 



190 BEAUTIES OP 

the people. She ^vas unmoved ; but the Duke of Or- 
leans, and even the cardinal, with the other courtiers 
present, becoming- alarmed, inlreated her to yield, and 
to grant willingly that which it appeared she would 
soon be obliged to concede. " Then,'^ said she, " if 
necessity compels me, I must consent. Go, and take 
such steps as the crisis requires." 'j'he le.Ures de ccicket 
were immediately written out, and shown to the 
crowd. But now they refused to move until Broussel 
was produced before them ; and in this state they re- 
mained until he arrived, which was on the followino- 
day. Then, by order of parliament, the barricadoes 
instantly fell; the shops were opened ; and the whole 
city became orderly and quist. 

But although tlie people were satisfied, the princi- 
ples of discord remained in the breasts of those by 
whom the opposite parties had been ruled and guided. 
The cardinal was determined upon vengeance ; and 
the coadjutor, on consulting his own safety, by pro- 
curing the death or banishment of his leading and 
most powerful adversary. 

After several hostilities, and a variety of proposi- 
tions and treaties on both sides, however, a peace 
was concluded between the government and the 
people; and, in 1650, Cardinal Mazarin W'lS con- 
demned to perpetual bani^ment, declared an outlaw, 
and all his property confiscated to the state. There 
was, however, no sincere reconciliation ; all parties 
"were equally suspicious and fearful; and disorder 



FRENCH HISTORY. 191 

every where prevailed. Matters were in this unsettled 
and dangerous stale, when, the king being fourteen 
years old, was declared of age, and took into his own 
hands the reins of government. One of his first 
acts was the recall of the old minister Mazarin, a 
measure that produced another collision between the 
monarch and the parliament. The latter was instantly 
in a blaze; they denounced the cardinal as guilty of 
high treason ; declared him an outlaw ; and offered 
a sura of 15,000 livres to any person who would 
bring him before them alive or dead. Mazarin, how- 
ever, succeeded in passing the Loire, and joined the 
court at Poitiers, where a large royalist army held 
been assembled. The country was now in a state of 
civil war, and a number of battles were fought; but 
owing chiefly to the skill and valour of the Mare- 
schal de Turenne, who commanded the troops of the 
king, and the indecision and want of unanimity 
among the rebels, the current of public opinion ra- 
pidly changed, and Louis was invited to return '' to 
his good city of Paris." The invitation was ac- 
cepted ; the coadjutor — now the Cardinal de Retz — 
was imprisoned, and his successful rival, Mazarin, 
triumphed, hi the year 1660, this ambitious and 
extraordinary man died. 

Soon after the death of the Cardinal Mazarin, an 
event of a very inexplicable nature occasioned much 
converfvaiion and conjecture tliroughoul France: — • 
A person, evidently <^f distinction, was conveyed to 



192 BEAUTIES OF 

a small island {Vile de Sainte Marguerite) where he 
was confined in the most rigid manner, although 
treated with the greatest consideration. This prisoner 
was compelled always to wear an iron mask, so 
contrived that it was not necessary to displace it 
%vhen he either ate or drank, and his attendants had 
strict orders to kill him, if at any time he attempted 
to remove it. After a period he was taken to the 
Bastile, where every luxury was provided for him, 
and every attention paid him consistent with secrecy 
and security. He was particularly fond of fine linen 
and splendid lace, and played agreeably on the guitar. 
He was apparently young, and of a pleasing and 
noble figure, and his voice sweet and melodious. 
Such was the respect shown him that even the go- 
vernor of the Bastile seldom seated himself in his 
presence. This wonderful unknown died in 1703 ; 
and was buried at night in the parish of St. Paul's. 
What renders the circumstance still more incompre- 
hensible is, that when. he was sent to the Isle. of St, 
Marguerite, no person of rank was missed throughout 
Europe. Nevertheless, he was strictly a prisoner of 
state; and a little incident that occurred while he was 
on the island clearly shows that he was anxious to 
communicate the secret of his captivity. The gover- 
noT of the castle always placed his dinner on the table 
with his own hands, and having secured the apart- 
ment, left him to himself. The prisoner scratched 
some words on one of the silver plates with hia 



FRENCH HISTORY. 193 

knife, and flung it out of the window towards a boat 
that was moored under the castle. A simple fisher- 
man picked up the plate, and conveyed it to the go- 
vernor, who immediately inquired if he had read 
what was written on it, and whether any one had 
seen it in his possession. The man replied, that he 
could not read, and that no one had seen it. The 
governor having ascertained that he spoke the truth, 
dismissed him, saying, that his ignorance was his 
greatest blessing. M. de Chamillart was the last per- 
son intrusted with the fearful secret, and it is believed 
that he faithfully carried it to his grave. Of course 
conjecture was busy on the subject: and many shrewd 
guesses were given as to who " the man with the 
iron mask" could be. To the present hour, however, 
it has never been ascertained. The most plausible 
opinion is, that he was a twin brother of the king; 
and that, to prevent domestic strife, he had been kept 
in secrecy and security from the time he was born. 

The termination of the life of Mazarin may be 
^considered as the commencement of the reign of 
Louis the Fourteenth. 

From this period he resolved to be his own mi- 
nister; and when the Archbishop of Rouen, then 
president of the French clergy, desired to know to 
whom he wp.s now to address himself on subjects 
connected with the church ; " Address yourself to 
me,'' said the king ; " I will take care you shall 
soon have an answer." The character of the mo- 
17 



194 BEAUTIES OF 

nardi underwent a fiulden, but total change : clay after 
day his people beheld vigour and perseverance in the 
cabinet, a condescending attention to tlie petitions of 
liis subjects, and a general attention to all matters 
connected with the government. His ministers were 
men of talent, experience, and integrity ; and improve- 
ments of every kind were gradually introduced into 
Ihe various departments of the state, the army, and 
tlie courts of justice. Louis, however, was not satis- 
fied with the moderate exercise of power ; he studied 
to render it absolute, regardless alike of policy and 
law. 

Although at war with Germany, and several other 
most powerful states of Europft, he continued to aug- 
ment his territory and increase his power. The cam- 
paign of 1675 was rendered, unhappily, memorable by 
the death of Turenne, a general of the highest ability 
and moral worth. Having obtained some advantages 
over the enemy at Wilstat, cut off their communica- 
tion with Strasburg, and compelled them to retreat, 
he immediately prepared to attack them in such a 
situation as appeared to render their destruction in- 
evitable. 

He rose very early the next morning, heard mass 
and communicated, and continued to observe the 
movements of tlie enemy. While breakfasting under 
a tree, he was informed that their troops were in 
motion: he instantly mounted his horse, and while 
reconnoitering, a Lall struck liim on the stomach, and 



FRENCH HISTORY. 195 

killed him. It was impossible to conceal his death,, 
which spread universal conslernation over the camp, 
and rendered the officers and soldiers equally inca- 
pable of action. Every one seemed as ilJia had lost 
a friend and a fadier. 

'j'he enemy, who had begun their retreat, now re-» 
turned to ilieir station without fear; and might, in 
their turn, have attacked the dispirited French army 
with great advantage. 

The generals by whom he was succeeded were 
divided in opinion as to what course they ougl)t to 
pursue, and resolved at last to abandon their storea 
at VVilstat. and to retreat across the Ivhine. They 
were pursued by the foe, who fell upon their rear. 
The engagement became general, and the French were 
finally victorious, with the loss of about 3000 men; 
but they killed 5000 of the enemy, and made 2500 
prisoners.^ 'I'hey continued their retreat, however,, 
and were followed by the imperialists into Alsace. 

The death of Turenntfal so critical a moment sud- 
denly changed the state and spirit of tlie French ar- 
mies, and was severely felt all over tlie kingdom. 
Louis was greatly alflicted, not only on account of 
personal respect and confidence, but because he had 
no other general competent to supply his place. Tu- 
renne was about the middle size, and well propor- 
tioned ; his hair was of a che.rtnut colour ; liis features 
regular; his eyes prominent; his forehead large; his 
eyebrows thick and almost joined together. His ge- 



196 BEAUTIES OF 

neral expression was modest, serene, and thoughtful ; 
having that mixture of kindness and severity which 
it is difficult to paint. He was considered ambitious 
in his youth ; but, as he advanced in life, that passion 
was moderated by prudence and a sense of propriety. 
He was always generous ; and though he had com- 
manded armies above thirty years, he might be said 
to have left no money. Such M^as his integrity, that 
not only his own countrymen, but foreign states, 
knew that they could trust in him if he only pledged 
his word ; for he was cautious in his promises, and 
strict in performing them. He possessed that sen- 
sibility which led him promptly to enter into others' 
feelings, and made him anxious to relieve them. 
Soldiers and officers equally respected him. He en- 
deavoured to keep them always moderately employ- 
ed ; for he said, that unless he occupied them in 
something good and proper, they would employ 
themselves in something improper. 

As far as it was possible, he prevented the injury 
of his enemies ; and when they fell into his hands, 
he treated them with consideration and kindness. 
Amidst the many temptations to provocation and re- 
eentnieni, incident to the course of a long military life, 
he maintained such an equanimity and self-govern- 
ment that he was scarcely ever known to utter an 
offensive word. 

His meekness and patience, his justice and temper- 
ance, were S'O great, as to indicate a spirit and prin- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 197 

ciples far above those of mere reason and nature ; 
and he is represented as pious towards God, as well 
as benevolent to men. Such w^as the character of the 
Mareschal de Tnrenne, alike honourable to his coun- 
try and to humanity, and the portrait is one that 
ought to be preserved — well would it be if all great 
generals resembled it. 

'J'he war continued until the year 1678, and was 
tlien terminated by the treaty of Nimeguen. As soon 
as Louis was at peace with foreign powers, he com- 
menced, or rather revived, a bitter persecution of the 
Calvinists. About the beginning of his reign they are 
said to have amounted to two millions and a half of 
souls — being rather above a twelfth of die whole 
population of P'rance ; but it is calculated that the 
persecutions they suffered in his lime reduced them 
to one half that number! IMany diousands of diem 
were massacred; six thousand were driven out ofihe 
kingdom ; they emigrated in immense parties ; and the 
rovocation of die edict of Nantes — which took place 
in 1685, completed their destruction, hi the days of 
their prosperity they had 626 churches, and 647 mi- 
nisters. They had a college at Montauban ; and in 
consequence of some trifling quarrel between them 
and a party of .Jesuits, which the latter magnified 
into an affair of the most alarming importance, the 
town was severely punished — about 300 families be- 
ing expelled ft'om their homes in the middle of win- 
17* 



198 BEAUTIES OP 

ter, and in a rainy season peculiarly unfavourable for 
travelling. 

Milhaud, the chief city of Rouergue, suffered a 
similar persecution, occasioned by a dispute with the 
Capuchin missionaries settled there. On the 10th of 
February, 1663, these missionaries assaulted a funeral 
procession of the Reformed, endeavouring to prevent 
it; and they provoked the mourners to force their 
way by violence. Informations were lodged against 
the latter, with false and aggravating circumstances ; 
and orders were immediately issued to punish them 
and their party with the most unmerited severity. 
Some were hanged, others subjected to the amende 
honourahle^ the minister was banished, several women 
were whipped, and a fine of 14,000 livres imposed 
on all of the reformed religion in the city. It would 
be tedious to describe a number of similar cases, 
which show the increased and determined spirit of 
persecution that reigned in the courts, and the extent 
and violence to which it was carried over the country. 
The sick were vexed with the officious visits of 
monks and priests, requiring them to acknowledge 
the Catholic faith, and to die in it; children were en- 
ticed or stolen from their parents to be educated as 
Catholics; and 300 churches were sliut up, without 
either provocation or form of justice. The half-parted 
chambers, that is, the courts of justice, in which the 
Reformed sat in equal numbers with the Catholics in 
judgment, were suppressed ; and the Reformed now 



FRENCH HISTORY. 199 

referred for the decision of their aflkirs to courts in 
which their enemies were the only judges. The 
consequence was, that in ahuost every trial, judg- 
ment was given against them as heretics. They were 
deprived of all offices, civil and military; their reli- 
gion excluding them from every situation of audio- 
rity and emolument. After the year 1680, they were 
not even allowed to practise any branch of the medi- 
cal profession, and their traders, artificers, &c., were 
prohibited from masterships. There was an evident 
determination to deprive them not only of the ho- 
nours, offices, and comforts of society, but of the very 
means of subsistence ; to make life a burden to them ; 
and so to compel them to become Catholics or quit 
the country. 

Those that rsmined in Vivares and Dauphine, ex- 
asperated by the various hardships to which they 
w.::re 'exposed, became impatient and reckless of 
life, and rose in arms against their immediate oppres- 
sors. But, witliout a leader and without discipline, 
what availed their temporary resistance ? Some hun- 
dreds of them were slain, and the sufferings of the 
survivors rendered the more severe. The insurrec-- 
tion gave occasion to the court to believe that au 
armed force wa^ nec?ssary, and dragoons were ac- 
cordingly quartered on the reformed families over all 
the provinces. The king fancied that the* mere ap- 
pearance of sohliers would subdue the spirit of the 
people, and terminate all opposition to the authority 



200 , BEAUTIES OF 

and prevalence of the Catholic church. He was not 
aware that persecinion for religious belief confirms, 
instead of eradicating, the peculiar sentiments of the 
persecuted ; and this dragoonade, for so it was called, 
while it miserably oppressed the Protestants, inflamed 
their resentment, and increased their hatred of boih 
church and slate. 

Some of the clergy, usually, either a bishop or a cu- 
rate, attended the soldiers, with authority to inflict any 
punishment, short of death, on recusants. Many 
died of their sufierings ; many also attempted to c-s- 
cape; but the frontiers were guarded, and they were 
driven back, cruelly disappointed. 

These horrid scenes took place before the misery 
of the Calvinists had been completed, and their hopes 
extinguished, by the revocation of the edict of > antes ; 
after this event, the sole object of their oppressors 
was to root them altogether out of the land, [t i3 
only wonderful that they did not succeed to the full- 
est extent; for, although ab.ove a million of the per- 
secuted Protestants sought refuge in other countries, 
a considerable number remained, notwithstanding 
their dreadful situation. 

It is said, that the revocationof the edict of Nantes 
was chiefly owing to the influence possessed by 
Madame de Maintenon over the mind of the king; 
and the saspicion that such was the case has thrown 
a slur over the memory of this excellent woman. 
It is, however, very unlikely that the charge has any 



rRENCH HISTORY. 201 

foundation in fact. The edict was revoked only two 
months after her marriage with the king, when it is 
scarcely probable that she would have displayed so 
much zeal in political or ecclesiastical affairs. It is 
certain that she was a rigid Catholic ; but the whole 
tenour of her life is opposed to the idea that she 
could carelessly or with satisfaction behold the sacri- 
fice of so many lives, or listen to the groans of per- 
secuted and miserable thousands, without taking a 
course the very opposite to that alleged against her by 
her adversaries. Indeed, her letters afford abundant 
evidence that her object was to lessen and not in- 
crease the wretchedness of those among whom she 
had once lived, and with whom were many of her 
earliest and dearest associations. 

A sketch of the life of this amiable and accomplished 
lady, to whose advice and assistance Louis was 
imqneslionably indebted for much of the groaliiess 
and prosperity by which his reign was distinguished^ 
may be fitly introduced here. Frances d'Aubigne, 
daughter of Theodore Agrippa d'Aubigne, was born 
on the 27th of November, 1635, in the prison of 
Niort, in which her mother had sliut herself up with 
her husband. On her father's liberation, he set out 
with all his family for America, where he had claims 
to considerable property. During the voyage, Fran- 
ces became so ill, that she was thought dead, and 
was about to be lowered into a watery grave, when 
signs of life were discovered, and she was preserved. 



^02 BEAUTIES OP 

For some time they lived prosperously in Martinique; 
but on the death of Theodore, his wife and ciiihh'ea 
were left totally destitute. The mother returned to 
France, and, after some tim^, her daughter, now about 
seven years of age, was sei?-: to her, and was received 
by Madame de V^ilette, her father's sister, and brought 
up by her in tlie Protestant religion ; but was after- 
wards, by the influence of her mother and anotlier 
relation, boarded with the Ursuline nuns at Niort, and 
became a Catholic. On the decease of her mother, 
when she was about sixteen, she married. tlie Abbe 
Scarron, a canon of Mons, who was neither young 
nor rich, handsome nor healthy, but humpbacked and 
gouty: he, however, possessed an inexhaustible fund 
of humour, kept a good table,and saw much company. 
The deformity of this celebrated wit did not pre- 
vent him from imagining that he was made for '•'•ladye 
love ;'■ and fond as he was of laughing at others, he 
never could bear to be laughed at. The following 
anecdote illustrates both his foibles : — one morning 
he received a letter, purporting to come from a fe- 
male of extraordinary beauty, who was captivated by 
his wit, and longed to tell him how much she ad- 
mired him, appointing a spot where she would meet 
him ; this place was a tremendous distance from Scar- 
ron's house, but he was too vain of the invitation to 
decline it, and accordingly he posted thither at the 
set time. He had no sooner quitted home, than a se- 
cond note was left at his house, apologizing for the 



FRENCH HISTORY. 203 

delay, and fixing another lime for the interview ; a 
seconci disappointment succeeded, then a third, and 
even a fourth ; when at last he discovered the cheat, 
he was never known to mention the name of the au- 
thor aftervv-ards wiihout an imprecation. 

When he was dying, his friends slied many tears*, 
and uttered great lamentation. Scarron beheld the 
scene unmoved, only observing, " You will never cry 
for me so much as I have made you laugh." 

Meantime, his wnfe, taking advantage of the op- 
portunities of conversation which she enjoyed with 
him, had cultivated a knowledge of the ancient, and 
several of the modern languages; and her conduct 
during the nine or ten years that she lived with this 
decrepid and infirm man, was most dutiful and ex- 
emplary. At his death she was left with very scanty 
means of subsistence, and repeatedly applied, by pe- 
tition, to the king for the pension which her husband 
had received during his life, but without success. 

The queen-mother gave her an annuity of 2000 
livres, which ceased after three years, on her death. 
Being in great want, she entered a convent of Ursu- 
Ime nuns ; but this retirement by no means excluded 
her from the world, and she occasionly mingled in 
the most respectable and agreeable society. She was 
ofl^ered an appointment to educate some children of 
high rank in Portugal, and had agreed to the propo- 
sal, when she was introduced to Madame de Montes- 
pan, then in high favour with Louis. In her interview 



204 BEAUTIES OF 

with that lady, she had occasion lo mention the re- 
peated refusal of her petition by the king, which now 
rendered it necessary to leave her country for a com- 
fortable subsistence. 

Madame, struck with her beauty, and pleased with 
her animated and interesting conversation, told her 
she must not form such a resolution ; and added, that 
if she would draw up a new petition and give it to 
her, she would present it to his majesty with her 
own hand. " What," exclaimed Louis, when the pe- 
tition was presented to him, " the widow Scarron 
again ?" but he listened to the urgency with which it 
was supported. " Her ancestors," said the favourite, 
" ruined themselves in the service of your ances- 
tors." The pension was granted, which enabled the 
"widow to live comfortably, and to devote her time to 
retirement and to religious and mental improvement. 
But she was not allowed long to enjoy this seclusion 
and leisure. Madame de Montespan, considering her 
ability and merit, knew no person so well qualified 
for the care and education of the royal children ; and 
after Madame Scarron had repeatedly declined the 
charge, Louis himself condescended to propose it to 
her; she consented, and entered on a laborious but 
important employment, watching with unremitting 
anxiety, night and day, over his young family. She 
was one morning surprised by a visit of the king, 
while with one hand she was supporting the Duke 
de Maine, with the other holding his younger brother 



FRENCH HIS TORT. 205 

the Count de Thoulouse on her knee, and rocking an 
infant sister in the cradle with her foot. Delighted 
-with the sight, Louis ordered her 100,000 francs, and 
raised her pension from 2000 livres to 2000 crowns. 
About this time Madame de Sevigne wrote the fol- 
lowing account of her to her daughter: — "We 
«upped last night with Madame Scarron : we found it 
very pleasant to accompany her, about midnight, to 
the farther end of the Fauxbourg St. Germain, very 
•near Vaugirard, m the country, into a fine large house, 
situated by itself. She has extensive gardens, and spa- 
cious and elegant apartments. She has a carriage, 
horses, and servants ; and dresses richly but modestly, 
just as becomes a woman who passes her life with 
people of quality. She is amiable, good, beautiful, 
and unaffected. Her conversation is very agreeable." 

In 1674 she was invited to reside at court, to de- 
vote herself to the care of the children of Madame 
de Montespan. She complied with the request, al- 
though the situation was by no means agreeable to 
her. It is said that the king at first disliked her, and 
was in the end won more by her modesty and amia- 
bility than by her beauty and talent for conversation. 
As a proof of his esteem, Louis presented to her the 
estate of Main tenon, which name from that time for- 
ward she assumed. When calumnies were circulated 
against her reputation, Louis himself was the first to 
point out and expose their falsehood. 

On the death of the queen, which happened in the 
18 



206 BEAUTIES OF 

year 1683, Madame de Maintenon's situation becam? 
very embarrassing. The king required her constanf' 
attendance : she saw the strength of his atlachment 
and was not destitute of reciprocal regard and tender- 
ness ; but she was aware of her critical circumstances 
and continued steadfast to her principles. This vir 
tuous firmness as well as her marriage with Louis, 
have been questioned ; and there is circumstantial evi- 
dence, only to prove the fact, no public record or pri- 
vate documents of it existing. The ceremony is said 
to have taken place in 1685, in presence of the 
Marquis de Montchevreuil, Louvois and Bontemps, 
of Harlay de Chanvalon, Archbishop of Paris, of Fa- 
ther de la Chaise ;* and that one of the last two per- 
formed the service. As all present appear to have 
been bound to secrecy, there would of course be no 
public record of it. Indeed, St. Simon informs us, that 
in those times there were no registers kept of such 
transactions. She herself left no trace of it ; but de- 
stroyed all letters and papers whatsoever that had the 
least reference to it ; and is said only once to have 
betrayed the secret. " She went," says Beaumelle, 
" to visit the convent of the Grand Carmelites, where 
queens alone have a right to enter. Before admitting 
her, the superior said, ' You know our rules, madam, 
and yourself can best decide whether I should open 
the gate to you.' ' Open,' said she, ^ my good mother; 

* Voltaire says that Louis was induced to many her by the 
advice of this Pere. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 207 

} m may always admit me.' " The circumstances of 
e idence are, her great circumspection and prudence 
ji^ her conduct toward him during the life of the 
qneen, and her open familiarity with him afterwards, 
from the supposed date of her marriage, when she 
lived with him, not as a mistress, but in all respects 
as a wife ; add to which, the uniform esteem, intimate 
friendship, and high respect, which he showed her, 
in a manner very different from the attentions he ever 
paid to any mistress, and the continuance of his at- 
tachment, and confidence in her during the remaining 
thirty years of his life. Her affection and respect 
were equally uniform and constant: she watched 
with solicitude over his health, governed his family, 
and presided as a queen in his court. She repeatedly 
attempted to have the marriage declared, and Louis 
would have yielded to her solicitation, but for his 
pride. Several of his courtiers knew this to be his 
weak side, on which they might most successfully 
attack him; and on the first surmise of his intention, 
besought and persuaded him to desist. Louvois, espe- 
cially, put him in mind of a solemn promise which 
he had made never to publish the marriage, and ex- 
postulated with him on the indignity which would be 
done to his own character, and to the honour of his 
family and kingdom : he even threw himself on hi« 
knees, and presenting a hilt of a dagger to the king, 
said, " Kill me, that [ may never see you dishonour 
yourself in the eyes of all Europe." Harlay Bossuet, 



208 BEAUTIES OF 

and Fenelon, those dignitaries of the church whorrr 
he most respected, concurred in the same opinion and 
remonstrance, and he was confirmed by them in his 
original resolution. But his attentions to her wera 
unremitting, and rather increased as they both ad- 
vanced in life. He was almost constantly in her 
chamber, even during the transaction of state busi- 
ness: in the public walks their carriages went abreast,. 
that they might converse together ; and when the king 
was on foot, he walked by the side of her chair, with 
his head uncovered, frequently stooping to hear what 
she said ; for he seemed always in conversation with. 
her. Such attentions showed a high degree of respect 
and esteem ; and as it was uninterrupted and unabated 
to the end of his life, it could not be the love of a mis- 
tress, but the relation and duties of a husband to an 
estimable woman and a wife. She died three yeard 
after him, on the 15th of April, 1718. 

But previously events had occurred in England, in. 
which France was, to some extent, involved. The 
Prince of Orange (William the Third) had been called 
to the British ihrone by the almost unanimous voice 
of the people ; and James the Second was obliged to- 
consult his safety in flight: the queen and her infant 
the Prince of Wales, having been sent away some 
time before, arrived at Boulogne ; whence she des- 
patched the following affecting letter to the King of 
France. 

" A fugitive queen, bathed in tears, has exposed 



FRENCH HISTORY. 209 

herself to the dangers of the sea, to obtain consolation, 
and an asylum from the greatest and most generous 
monarch of the world. In her destitute state she 
shall find whh him an enjoyment, which others in 
the most prosperous circumstances have sought with 
avidity. The necessity of resorting to it diminishes 
not its value in her estimation, since she has preferred 
it to every other expedient and place of refuge. 
She confides to the protection of his majesty the 
Prince of Wales, the most precious remnant of her 
fortune, and most tender object of her affection. Pie 
is too young to be sensible of the kind and gracious 
protection afforded to him, or to join her in acknow- 
ledging it; but the sentiments of gratitude glow warm- 
ly in a mother's heart, and already alleviate somewhat 
the bitterness of her sorrows." 

The Marquis de Beringham was instantly de- 
spatched with royal carriages to conduct the queen 
and her son to St. Germain, which was suitably fur- 
nished for their reception. On the 5ih of January, 
1689, the king was informed of the king of England's 
arrival at Ambleteuse, and immediately sent a suit- 
able deputation to welcome him. 

He had received the queen, and embraced her in- 
fant with the greatest tenderness : he had presented 
her with the key of a small box, containing 6000 
pistoles, and had lodged her, with every comfort in 
his power to bestow, in the Chateau of St. Germain, 
^ext day he went to visit her, and was conversing 
18* 



210 BEAUTIES OF 

with her, when the arrival of her royal husband was^ 
announced. 

Lonis went immediately out and received him at the* 
gate, .^ames fell down on his knees before him, but he 
instantly raised and embraced him most tenderly, led 
him to the chamber of his queen, and presenting him 
said, "There is a man whom you will be most 
happy lo see." After introducing to him the prince* 
of the blood, he took leave of him for that day, re- 
questing him to visit him next day at Versailles. 
There he was received with equal attention and re- 
spect by all the royal family. Louis resolved t<» give- 
him 50,000 crowns, to furnish, in the mean time, 
whatever he might require, and to settle on him 
50,000 francs a month. Such conduct w^as equally- 
becoming a good man and a great king. 

hi the mean time the war with the Emperor Leo- 
pold was renewed ; and it gave rise to acts on the 
part of Louis, that no motive of policy or expediency 
can ever justify. 

The king, witli a view to prevent the enemy from 
attaining the means of subsistence, resolved to ravage 
and burn the Palatinate, which had not otherwise 
merited such a calamity, than by joining other states 
of Germany in their common defence. It \yas said 
to have been the suggestion of Louvois, his minister, 
and the order received by the generals was signed by 
him ; but it was virtually the order and act of the 
king. It was forwarded to the army in the middle 



FRENCH HISTORY. 211 

of winter, to reduce that populous country to ashes : 
the officers shuddered at the thought, and yet consi- 
dered themselves bound to obey. They communi- 
cated to the people their orders, and signified to them 
that, to save their lives they must instantly, notvi'ith- 
standing the inclemency of the season, leave theit 
castles and cottages, and retire from the country, 
which was to be immediately converted into a desert. 
It melted the hearts even of men accustomed to blood- 
shed, to see men and women, of every rank and 
age — decrepit old men and tender infants, hastening' 
to tlie fields, or to the adjacent districts, while they 
beheld their houses behind them, their towns and vil- 
lages, their furniture, their stores, and all their pro- 
perty in flames. The barbarous soldiers, influenced" 
by the desire of plunder, violated the very sepulchres 
of the dead, where they hoped to find treasures. 
Hitherto the ambition of Louis had been condemned ; 
but now all Europe execrated this unnecessary and 
monstrous cruelty. 

The states of Germany declared France their 
common enemy, and united with the emperor in 
their defence; a bloody and protracted war followed ; 
and continued until the peace of Ryswick, in 1697. 

James II. died in France A.D. 170*2, and on his 
death-bed entreated Louis to show the same kindness 
to his son and family, as he had done to him. The 
Prince of Wales was immediately proclaimed King- 



212 BEAUTIES OP 

of England, under the title of James III., and Louis 
greeted and acknowledged him as such. 

A declaration of war, on the part of England 
against France, was the consequence ; and, although 
William III. did not live to take any share in the 
proceedings that followed, his successor. Queen 
Anne, entered so completely into his views, that 
hostilities were almost immediately commenced. 
The command of the British armies was intrusted to 
the Duke of Marlborough — whose name is so inti- 
mately blended with the glory of his country— and 
on the 13th of August, 1704, the first great battle 
between the rival nations was fought at Hochsted, or 
Blenheim, the French force being commanded by 
the Mareschal Tallard. A signal victory was gained 
by the English general ; Tallard and 13,000 men 
were taken prisoners, and 12,000 were slain on the 
field, or drowned in the Danube. Next day, when 
Marlborough visited Tallard, the latter assured him 
that " he liad defeated the best troops in the world." 
" I hope," " replied Marlborough, " you will except 
those by whom they were beaten." 

For nearly nine years the war continued ; but at 
length the peace of Utrecht restored tranquillity to 
Europe — the treaty being signed between England, 
Portugal, Savoy, Brandenburgh, the States General, 
and France, on the 11th of April, 1713. 

While the negotiations were pending, a series of 
domestic calamities afflicted the unhappy Louis, now 



FRENCH HISTORY. 213- 

at a very advanced period of life. The dauphin and 
daiiphiness (the Duke and Duchess of Burgundy )5- 
the Duke of Brittany, and the Duke of Berry, all 
died within a short time of each other; and it was^ 
suspected that poison had been administered to them 
by the Duke of Orleans, nephew to the king : but 
when the prince threw himself at his uncle's feet, de- 
clared his innocence, and demanded a public trial, 
Louis assured him, that the very rumour of guilt, ia. 
one so near him, had heightened his sorrow ; and- 
expressed his persuasion of his innocence, only re- 
commending him to reform his generally unprincipled 
conduct, which had doubtless given rise to the suspi- 
cions against him. The death of the dauphin was, 
not only to the king but to the country, an irreparable 
loss. Under the education of the good and gifted 
Fenelon, Archbishop of Cambray, he had imbibed 
such principles, as had formed him to become one of 
the best, the wisest, and most upright monarchs that 
ever guided the helm of a state, or governed the des- 
tinies of a kingdom. This amiable and excellent 
prince died on the 18th of February, at thirty years. 
of age; his wife having just fallen a victim to the 
same malignant disorder — which appears to have 
been a putrid fever — for no symptoms of poison were 
visible to the surgeons by whom the bodies were in- 
spected. 

On the 17th of February, 1715, the Persian ambas- 
sador made his public entry into Paris. His appear- 



214 



BEAUTIES OF 



ance and retinue were far from magnificent or 
splendid. 

A brancard, or species of litter, supported by mules 
belonging to Louis, carried three boxes of presents 
from the King of Persia. He was introduced on the 
19lh, when the French monarch, notwithstanding his 
age and ialirmities, appeared to great advontas^e. He 
was dressed in a black suit, ornamented with gold, 
and embroidered with diamonds: it had cost twelve 
millions five hundred thousand livres. When he 
appeared at the balcony, the people were delighted 
to see him look so well, and rent the air with their 
acclamations of Vloe le Rol ! The streets and the 
courtyard were crowded, and the hall filled with 
ladies and persons of quality. The old king ascended 
the throne with dignity. Every thing was bril- 
liant and impressive. The ambassador was charmed 
with the splendour and elegance with which he was 
received \ but his presents and appearance formed a 
striking contrast: they were neither worthy of Persia 
to give nor of France to receive. His stay was long, 
and very expensive; as he was allowed five hundred 
livres a-day by the French government. 

On this occasion, Louis was seen in public for the 
last time. His age was great, and his health declining. 
Shortly before his death, he called his ministers and 
courtiers around him, and addressed them to this 
effect : — " Gentlemen, I request forgiveness for the bad 
example which 1 have so often set you ; and 1 thank 



FRENCH HISTORY. 215 

you for the affection and fidelity with which you 
have always served me. I wish J could have re- 
warded you more suitably. I entreat you to be equal- 
ly faithful and affectionate in the service of my grand- 
son. I feel my heart softened, and I see you in tears. 
Farewell. Remember me !"^ 

Louis the Fourteenth died on the 1st of Septem- 
ber, 1715, in the seventy-seventh year of his age, and 
the seventy-third of his reign. 

His last moments were certainly embittered by 
the recollection of the many evil deeds of which he 
had been guilty. He exhorted the infant dauphin, 
his successor, to guard against the unnecessary shed- 
ding of blood ; and when his confessor inquired if 
he suffered much, he replied, " No !" but added that 
he ought to have more to endure for the expiation of 
his sins. 

Throughout his long life he spent more of his time 
with the ladies of the court than with his teachers or 
ministers ; and oftener read plays and books of amuse- 
ment, than history or politics. Voltaire has justly 
observed, that he made greater progress in the cul" 
tivation of his personal appearance and manners, 
in riding, dancing, and talking gracefully, than in the 
study of the sciences, or other branches of useful 
learning. 

The success with which he acquired the Italian 
language, while lie was attached to Mademoiselle 
Mancine (an Italian) ; and the facility with wlvch lie 



S16 BEAUTIES OF 

learned the Spanish tongue, in the prospect of mar- 
rying the Infanta — showed what he might have done 
in literature generally, had he possessed an ardent 
desire of knowledge, and been placed in circumstances 
more favourable for its acquisition. The defects of 
his mind were in the eyes of the world, in some 
measure atoned for by his personal qualities and grace- 
fulness of conduct. 

He was handsome, had a fine countenance, a dig- 
nified and majestic expression and manner, and the 
tones of his voice were affecting and authoritative; 
his movements were pleasing, for they became his 
dignity, but would have appeared affected and ridicu- 
lous in one of an inferior rank. Conscious of his 
own superiority, he was flattered by observing its 
•effect on persons of eminence when in his presence. 
A venerable officer who once faltered before him in 
asking a favour, and who could not finish the sentence, 
but said, " Your Majesty will condescend to believe 
me, that I would not have trembled thus before your 
enemies," most readily obtained a favourable answer 
l0 his request. 

Among the many distinguished characters who 
flourished during the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, 
may be enumerated the following : — Bossuet, Bour- 
daloue, Fenelon, Massillon, Mezerai, Rochefoucauld, 
Pascal, Mallebranche, Racine, Moliere, M. and 
Madame Dacier, Descartes, La Fontaine, Montes- 
%meu, RoUin, Scarron, Boileau, and Madame de 



FRENCH HISTORY. 217 

Sevfgne. A few anecdotes of some of these cannot 
fail to interest the reader^ 

Dacier, at an early age, became attached to Made- 
moiselle de Ferre, afterwards the celebrated and ac- 
complished Madame Pacier. Amongst other pro- 
ductions, they undertook jointly a translation of 
Plutarch's lives, and were much amused by the 
various observations made upon their production by 
the public and private critics of the day ; some of 
whom declared they could trace the style of Madame 
in one particular life ; others protesting that such and 
such passages were indications of Monsieur's pecu- 
liar manner ; while the fact was, that their styles had 
so perfectly amalgamated by habit, that no distinction 
was perceptible. Madame Dacier, however, soon 
relinquished to her husband the fame arising from 
this work, and shone forth as the translator of Homen 
A good deal of controversy was occasioned by this 
undertaking, and sometimes Madame Dacier was be- 
trayed into a style of invective by no means feminine. 
It was, however, far from characteristic of her dis- 
position. Being once pressed by a foreigner of dis- 
tinction to inscribe her name in an album that was 
graced by the signatures of many celebrated persons, 
she answered she was not worthy to appear in such 
company. The gentleman, however would take no 
denial : overcome by his importunities, she wrote her 
name, and this line from Sophocles, in English — 
*' Silence is woman's ornament?'' — ^The harmony and 
19 



218 BEAUTIES OP 

happiness by which the lives of these celebrated per* 
sons were distinguished is even a more deligljtful re- 
collection than that afforded by the knowledge of their 
splendid acquirements ; the fame and attention that 
awaited them abroad, never for a moment rendered 
them insensible to their domestic duties ; and they edu- 
cated their children themselves with care and attention. 
They were deprived of their eldest son, just as he 
had attained his eleventh year : even at that early age, 
he had acquired a knowledge of the best Greek au- 
thors, and other information equally extaordinary at 
his tender years. The eldest daughter entered a 
nunnery ; and their youngest had not completed her 
eighteenth year, when she also was taken from her 
parents, who suffered most bitterly from this second 
bereavement. The translations of Monsieur Dacier 
gained him a seat in the French Academy, to which 
was soon added his election into that of the Inscrip- 
tions and Belles Lettres. He survived the death of 
his beloved partner but two years. 

" One day," says Menage, " on meeting Madame 
de Sevigne, I took her hand between mine ; and upon 
her withdrawing it, M. Pelletier, standing by, said, 
'Menage, that is the most beautiful work that ever 
came from you, with all your ability.' " 

" It raises my spleen," said Madame de Sevigne, 
" to hear an aged person say I am too old to mend ; 
this would sound even better from a young one. 
youth is so lovely, and the body is then so perfect^ 



FRENCH HISTORY. 219 

that were the mhid equally so, the passions which 
such an assemblage must excite would be too vehe- 
ment ; but when the graces of youth begin to wither, 
then surely it is high time to labour after moral and 
intellectual qualities, and endeavour to compensate 
for the loss of beauty by the acquirement of merit." 

An amusing story is told of M.oliere. He was in 
the habit of reading his plays to an old servant; and 
once endeavoured to puzzle her by reciting one written 
by another person, pretending it was his own : in a 
few minutes, however, she roundly told her master, 
^' She was not to be tricked in that way, for she was 
sure the play was none of his." 

Moliere commenced a translation of Lucretius, but, 
unfortunately, his servant took some of the sheets 
for curling-papers, which threw him into such a pas- 
sion that he destroyed the remainder. 

Rapin admired Moliere excessively; so much so, 
that the king asking him one day, *•' Who was the 
chief of all the excellent writers of which France 
could boast in his reign?" he answered, "Moliere." 
"I did not think so," replied the king; "but you 
understand these matters better than I." 

Upon the first acting of the Gentleman Cit^ Louis, 
%vho, as usual, was present at fhe representation, not 
having passed any opinion upon it, his courtiers, one 
and all, talked of it with the utmost contempt; and 
it was every where decried with such acrimony, that 
poor Moliere was ashamed to show his face. About 



220 BEAUTIES OF 

a week after, however, the play was again performed. 
The king sent for the author, and said to him, " If I 
was silent on the first performance of your piece, it 
was because I feared it might deceive me •, but indeed, 
Moliere, you have never better diverted me — the play 
is admirable !" After this, the courtiers talked as if 
they could never sufficiently praise what they had 
been condemning all the week ! 

LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH 

The great-grandson of Louis the Fourteenth, at the 
age of five years was called to the throne of Fiance, 
on the 1st of September, 1715 — the Duke of Orleans, 
having been appointed by tlie will of the late king, 
President of the Council of Regency. The duke was 
one of the most unprincipled men of the age, and the 
suspicions that existed against him relative to the 
death of the dauphin and daupliiness, afford sufficient 
evidence of the estimation in which his character was 
held by the people and the court. Yet he had no 
sooner entered upon office, than he obtained power 
enough to do away with all the restrictions by which 
the appointment was accompanied, and to set aside 
the testament itself. '^ I consent to be restrained from 
evil," said he, in addnessing the parliament; " but in 
doing good J desire to be independent and free." 

For a time, his administration of affairs was mo- 
dest and promising ; the mornings of the day he devo- 
ted to business, and the evenings to pleasure. But 



FRENCH HISTORY. 221 

when the necessary labours had terminated, he rush- 
ed with eagerness to the parties that joined him in 
the dissipation and debaucheries of the night. The 
manners of the court underwent a total change ; the 
rigid attention to religious forms and superstitious 
rites, the hypocrisy and outward moral decorum, 
which characterized the court of Louis the Fourteenth 
in the latter part of his reign, gave way to a contempt 
of religion, licentiousness, and undisguised vice. 
Some degree of irregularity, were it only profane 
swearing, was reckoned a necessary recommendation 
to royal favour. When the evening parties of the 
regent were assembled, the doors were closely shut; 
no intrusion whatsoever was permitted, however 
urgent the occasion ; and drinking and dissoluteness 
were carried to excess, until an early hour of the 
morning. Yet, it is wonderful, that the Duke of 
Orleans never neglected the business and duties of 
the day, but, however indisposed and incapable he 
might be for serious deliberation, he sat in the coun- 
cils, and went through the ordinary routine of public 
affairs. 

Such a man was, indeed, unfit to be intrusted with 
a charge so important as that of the political and moral 
education of an infant king. The Duchess de Ven- 
tadour, however, had been appointed governess to the 
young prince ; a duty for which she was in every re- 
spect, well qualified, and which she discharged with 
a good conscience, and to the satisfaction of all parties» 
19* 



222 BEAUTIES OF 

In the year 1723, Louis became of regal age ; as- 
sumed the reins of government, nominally, into his 
own hands ; and appointed the Duke of Orleans his 
prime minister ; who, however, lived buta fev/ months 
after the (change. His successor to the high office 
was the Duke of Bourbon, the chief of the house of 
Conde ; one of the first acts of whose administration 
was, the issue of an edict against the Huguenots, pro- 
hibiting them, under the severest penalties, from en- 
joying the public exercise of their religion, enjoining 
them to educate their children as Catholics, and brand- 
ing with infamy the memory of those who had died 
without the pale of the Catholic faith. But Fleury, 
the king's precepior, who had gradually insinuated 
himself into the favour and confidence of his royal 
pupil, undermined the influence and authority of the 
Duke of Bourbon, and was in the end made prime 
minister in his room, at the age of seventy-three. 
Under his wise and equitable administration, the king- 
dom of France recovered its prosperity and strength ; 
domestic and foreign credit was re-established: com- 
merce and manufactures revived, and agriculture flour- 
ished throughout the country. 

In 1723, Louis had married the daughter of Stan- 
islaus, king of Poland, and about six years afierwards 
she gave birth to a son, an event which caused the 
most lively joy to the whole court and king(h>m. 
The queen was beautiful, amiable, and accomplished; 
ami the king continued many years a chaste and af- 



FRENCH HISTORY. 223 

fectionate husband ; but an unhappy difference at last 
took place, which alienated him from the prudent 
and devout daughter of Stanislaus. He then attached 
himself to Majdame de Mailly ; and became addicted 
to wine and private gossiping, unworthy, not merely 
of a monarch, but of a man. Jn the year 1743, he 
sustained a severe loss in the death of Cardinal Fleuiy, 
who had pursued a wise and prosperous course of 
policy in the conduct of public affairs during a period 
of seventeen years. The great error in the life of this 
able minister and excellent man was, that he became 
the head of a party against, and a zealous persecutor 
of, the Jansenists, a sect which was very numerous 
and possessed of considerable power in France. They 
were favoured, as many of them believed, with the 
direct interposition and testimony of Heaven, by the 
miracles which were supposed to have been wrought 
in their behalf in the burying-ground of St. Medard, 
at the tomb of a sainted abbot. Even there, however, 
the influence of the cardinal prevailed ; for by an order 
from the king, the miraculous place of sepulture was 
closed, and the performance of wonders consequently 
stayed. On the next morning the following blasphe- 
mous inscription was found posted on the gate of 
the burial-ground: — "By the king's authority, tjie 
Almighty is forbidden to work any more miracles 
here." 

Upon the death of his prime minister, Louis, like 
many of his predecessors, resolved and declared that 



S24 BEAUTIES OF 

he would himself govern his kingdom. At this time, 
Europe was in a very inflammable state ; France and 
England were at war, and the French commander, the 
Duke de Noailles, was preparing to meet the English 
forces in the neighbourhood of the Mayne. The 
memorable battle of Dettingen was fought on the 
26th of June, 1743. 

On the 5lh of January, 1757, as Louis was stepping 
into his coach, about six o'clock in the evening, on 
his way to sup and sleep at Trianon, he was struck 
on the right side between the ribs. He immediately 
recognized the regicide, and said, " There is the man : 
seize him, but do him no harm." The king was put 
to bed, and became apprehensive of death ; but the 
next day, the surgeon found, on dressing the wound, 
•that it was neither deep, nor attended with danger. 
The body guards, who first apprehended Damiens, 
supposing that he must be the agent of some club of 
conspirators, empfoyed torture to make him confess 
who had incited him to perpetrate the deed. He was 
afterwards taken out of their hands, and examined in 
a more regular and solemn manner, for the space of 
two hours, in a way the most exquisitely painful ; but 
it appeared that he had no accomplices, and had been 
moved by his own imagination to relieve the people 
from all their troubles, as he supposed by assassin- 
. ating, or at least terrifying, their oppressor. 

The punishment inflicted on him at last was of the 
most dreadful kind. His right hand was consumed j 



FRENCH HISTORY. 225 

he was torn with pincers ; melted lead was poured into 
his wounds ; then he was drawn and quartered, and 
finally burnt, and his ashes scattered to the winds. 
His father, wife, and daughter, were banished from 
the kingdom. 

In 1765, France sustained a severe loss by the death 
of the dauphin ; whose eldest son had died about 
twelve months previously. This most interesting 
and promising youth had received a contusion by a 
fall at play with a boy of his own age ; and generously, 
but thoughtlessly, concealed that he had been hurt, 
until a tumour appeared, and an operation became 
necessary. He then disclosed the cause, but never 
revealed the name of him by whom he had been un- 
intentionally injured. He languished in great suffer- 
ing for above a year, at the end of which time he ex- 
pired. 

Immediately on the death of the dauphin, his son, 
the Duke de Berri — (afterwards Louis the Sixteenth) 
was declared to inlierit that distinction. He was born 
at Versailles on the 23d of August, 1744, and was 
married, in 1770, to the archduchess, Maria Antoin- 
ette, a daughter of the house of Austria. The nuptials 
were celebrated with great splendour; but with a 
lavish and prodigal expenditure, considering the ex- 
hausted state of the public finances. Thirty thou- 
sand horses are said to have been employed In Maria 
Antoinette's journey, and sixty new carriages formed 
a part of the train which was to conduct her from 



226 BEAUTIES OP 

Strasburg to Paris. The dresses and eritertarnments 
on the road were proportionably sumptuo^us and 
costly. At an entertainment given by the king, he 
shamelessly introduced his mistress to the dauphiness, 
who was ignorant of her real condition and character; 
but pleased with the handsome appearance, and mo- 
dest and elegant manners, which the favourite knew 
so well how to assume. During the entertainments 
that took place, a fatal accident occurred ; which, when 
recollected in after times, was held to have been omin- 
ous. An immense crowd, supposed to have exceed- 
ed 600,000, assembled to witness the exhibition of 
lire-works, in the vast square around the statute of the 
king, and were proceeding through a wide street, 
when some obstruction stayed them. The multitude 
behind pressed against those before, and overwhelmed 
and trampled on them : one hundred and thirty per- 
sons perished on the spot. Many more were so 
bruised that they died shortly afterwards ; and, alto- 
gether, about J 200 are said to have lost their lives. 
The dauphin and dauphiness were deeply distressed 
by this event, of v/hich they were the innocent cause, 
and did all in their power to alleviate the affliction 
of the sufferers. 

The death of the king took place on the 10th of 
May, 1774, in consequence of an attack of the small- 
pox, the virulence of which his debilitated constitu- 
tion was unable to withstand. Louis was almost 
sixty years of age when he died ; and although he 



FRENCH HISTORY. 227 

had governed France nearly the whole of his life, 
yet his reputation is one of which his country has 
no reason to be proud. He was despised, if not de- 
tested, by his subjects ; his attachment to unprincipled 
and profligate women stifled all that might have been 
naturally good in his disposition ; and he left scarcely 
a single human being to mourn over him. 

A train had certainly been laid during the mal-ad- 
ministration of this weak and enervated monarch, 
which was rapidly spreading, and threatening to des- 
troy the great principle that binds alike the sovereign 
to the subject, and the subject to the sovereign. The 
minds of the people were gradually influenced by the 
writings and reasonings of men of richly-endowed in- 
tellects, but without virtue or religion. Glowing pic- 
tures were exhibited of the evils arising from civil and 
religious restraint, which was denominated bondage ; 
and of the inestimable blessings of moral and political 
liberty — a word that has been so frequently used to. 
stimulate men to the commission of deeds at which, 
human nature shudders. At the head of those who 
pushed on the people to discontent, v/hich led to re- 
bellion, and then to atrocities incredible, but that the 
living witnesses of them are still among us, were 
yoltaire and Rousseau. The genius of the former, 
his extensive erudition, his eloquence, and tiis wit, all 
contributed to forward the grand object, for the ac- 
complishment of which he spoke and Avrole ; and un- 
happily, the progress of infidelity found at that tim.e 



52$ 



BEAUTIES OF 



a powerful auxiliary in the abandoned debauchery 
of the court, and the props of tyranny were impaired 
by the very efforts employed to render them more 
fixed and durable. 

The talents of Rousseau, though very different from 
those of Voltaire, were of a pernicious nature, and 
perhaps contributed even more than his to the gene- 
ral depravity that ensued. He seduced and corrupted, 
while his literary rival reasoned and convinced. 
His object was to sap the very foundations of the 
building, which the other, less insidious, dared to 
storm and destroy. They succeeded to the utmost 
extent that malevolence could desire ; and Diderot, 
D'Alembert, and others, who have rendered their 
names at once famous and infamous, devoted them- 
selves to the dissemination of atheistical principles, 
and taught men to believe that they should obey no 
will but their own passions, and submit to no con- 
trol but their own naturally base or shamefully per- 
verted appetites. 

It is not therefore matter of astonishment, that withiti 
a short period after the poison had been administered, 
the whole body became corrupt. The French Revo- 
lution will be remembered while the world endures, 
to show how completely men may become fiends,* 
and how far reality may exceed all that the imagina- 
tion can portray of the horrible and the unnatural. 



FRENCH HISTORY. 



LOUIS THE SIXTEENTH, 



229 



Grandson of Louis the Fifteenth, inherited the crown 
of France on the 10th of May, 1 774. On receiving the 
unwelcome intelligence that he was a king, he is said 
to have exclaimed, almost prophetically — '' Oh ! God ? 
what a misfortune for me !" 

This kind and benevolent monarch commenced his 
reign with a firm determination to be not nominally, 
but in reality, " the father of his people." He im- 
mediately abolished the corvee^ or compulsatory repa- 
ration of the highway, a service for which the labour- 
ers received no pay ; removed the barriers between the 
different provinces, repealed all the internal taxes on 
the transit of commodities from one province to 
another, and issued a decree for the free commerce 
of grain throughout his dominions. Many of the 
disabilities under which the Protestants had so long 
laboured were repealed ; the expenses of the royal 
household were considerably diminished ; several 
sinecure places gradually ceased to be public burdens; 
and provincial assemblies were instituted, composed 
.of members freely elected from among the nobility, 
the clergy, and the commons, whose duty it wa3 
to communicate to the crown the sentiments and 
grievances (if any existed) of the people in their re- 
spective provinces ; to point out such taxes as might 
be vexatious, and to remedy all abuses in collecting 
them. Such a course of policy was calculated to 
restore public credit and confidence, rather than to 
20 



230 BEAUTIES OP 

destroy both ; but, in an evil hour for himself and his 
country, Louis yielded a reluctant consent to the mea- 
sure for supporting the American colonies, in their 
contest with the mother-country; and thus became 
the chief accelerating cause of subsequent calamities, 
by increasing the derangement of the national finan- 
ces, and by spreading the spirit of republicanism 
among his army, and, through it, over all France. 

We pass over the period of the French Revolution^, 
which furnishes but few of the Beauties of Frenck 
History, in order to arrive at the brilliant period whe® 
Napoleon elevated the martial character of the French, 
people to a point it had never reached before. Our 
limits will permit us to give only a few detached an- 
dotes illustrative of his brilliant career. 

ANECDOTES OF NAPOLEON. 

The Battle of LodL 

The bridge of Lodi gives name to an action thai 
took place there between the French and the Austri- 
ans, in 1797, and which decided the fate of the Italian 
campaign. 

It was an object with Bonaparte, to force the bridge 
of Lodi, which crosses the Adda at a place w^here the 
river is about two hundred yards broad, and the 
breadth of the bridge is about ten. A battery of can- 
non commanded the whole length of it by a raking 



FRENCH HISTORY. 231 

fire, while other batteries, above and below, threat- 
ened destruction to any force that should attempt to 
cross. 

Without losing a moment, though it was late in 
the evening when he arrived at Lodi, Napoleon or- 
dered the passage to be attempted ; and a column of 
the French, headed by their principal general officers, 
persevering under a deadly fire, this most singular in- 
stance of military enthusiasm and daring v^^as crowned 
with complete success. 

JVapoIeoTi^s presence of mind at the Bridge of Lodi. 

At this memorable passage, it was not less the cele- 
rity and promptitude of movement, than invincible 
heroism, that carried the day. The fire of the enemy, 
who defended the passage with thirty pieces of can- 
non, was terrible ; the head of the charging column 
of the French appeared to give way; "a moment of 
hesitation," says Bonaparte, in his official despatch 
on the occasion, " would have lost all. Generals 
Berthier, Massena, Cervoni, D'Allemagne, the chief 
of brigade, Lannes, and the chief of battalion, Dupat, 
dashed forwards at its head, and determined the fate 
of the day, still wavering in the balance." Bonaparte 
does not include his own name in the list of this 
heroic band, though well known to have been one 
of the foremost in the charge ; the modesty which 
dictated this concealment, even his revilers must ad- 



232 BEAUTIES OF 

mire. "This redoubtable column," he continues, 
" overturned all opposed to it; Beaulieu's order of 
battle was broken ; astonishment, flight, and death, 
were spread on all sides. In the twinkling of an eye, 
the enemy's army was scattered in confusion." 

*' Although," he continues, " since the commence- 
ment of the campaign we have had some very warm 
aflairs, and although the army has often been under 
the necessity of acting with great audacity, nothing- 
has occurred which can be compared to the terrible 
passage of the Bridge of Lodi. 

" Our loss has been small : and this we owe to the 
promptitude of the execution, and to the sudden effect 
which the charge of this intrepid column produced 
on the enemy." 

The Bridge of Areola. 

The passage of the bridge of Areola may be es- 
teemed the height of boldness. Thousands of men 
and musketry served to defend the approach to this 
particular spot, which was completely fenced by can- 
non in every direction ; thrice had General Bonaparte 
commanded the charge in person, and thrice had his 
followers, disdaining to retreat, fallen sacrifices to 
their temerity; the death-dealing bullets continued 
their destructive career, levelling all those who dared 
to encounter their vengeful flight. Napoleon, at length 
growing indignant, gave utterance to an exclamation 



FRENCH HISTORY. 233 

of fury, and instantly tearing one of the standards 
from the grasp of an ensign, sprang upon this bridge, 
the scene of carnage and slaughter; when, planting 
the flag in defiance of destiny itself, which seemed to 
oppose him, he thus addressed his soldiers — 

" Frenchmen ! Grenadiers ! will you, then, abandon 
your colours !" 

This appeal seemed to convey a reproach ill adapt- 
ed to the spirit of sTich courageous men ; wherefore, 
before the General was enabled repeat them, all 
thought of danger had vanished, death was faced in 
every direction, the bridge of Areola was forced, and 
victory once more crowned the republican standard. 

The Pioneer. 

In delivering his orders, the General, with that 
presence of mind which is uniformly the precursor 
of victory, presented himself in person at every point 
where danger appeared to threaten the most, and thus 
exposed himself like the common soldier. 

Upon one of these occasions a pioneer, perceivmg 
the imminent risk Napoleon ran, thus addressed him 
in the unsophisticated language of a camp — " Stand 
aside !" — General Bonaparte, fixing his eyes upon 
him, hesitated, when the veteran, rudely pushing him, 
addressed Napoleon in these words, which were ex- 
pressive of the greatest compliment that could possi- 
bly be paid to his talents as a military commander : 
20* 



234 BEAUTIES OP 

" If thou art killed, who is to rescue us from this 
jeopardy ?" 

Bonaparte instantly appreciated the sterling value 
of this exclamation, and consequently remained si- 
lent; but, after the termination of the conflict, which 
proved favourable to the republican flag, he ordered 
this independant pioneer to be brought into his pre- 
sence, when, familiarly tapping him upon the shoulder, 
he thus addressed him : * 

"Thy noble boldness claims my esteem; thy 
bravery demands a recompense ; from this hour, in- 
stead of the hatchet, an epaulette shall grace thy 
shoulder." 

He was, of course, immediately raised to the rank 
of an officer. 

Milan. 

On the evening of the day previous to the taking 
of the city of Milan, General Bonaparte, being then 
commander-in-chief of the army of Italy, was en- 
gaged to dine at the mansion of a lady of conse- 
quence. This personage, considering the distinguish- 
ed rank, and above all, the illustrious name of her 
guest, conducted the honours of her table with the 
greatest attention and politeness. Napoleon, however, 
being fully occupied with the momentous events that 
were to characterize the succeeding day, replied with 
coldness and brevity to the repeated marks of deference 



FRENCH HISTORY. 235 

which the hostess pointedly expressed towards him; 
who, at lenglh, in order to give animation to the com- 
pany, requested to know Bonaparte's age, ad(hng by 
way of palliation of the apparent rudeness of the in- 
quiry. 

*' That he appeared by far too young to have al- 
ready gained so many laurels !" 

" Truly, madam," answered the General with a 
smile, " I am not indeed very old at the present 
moment ; but in less than twenty-four hours i shall 
count much more, for to-day I have to number twenty- 
five years, whereas to-morrow 1 shall have attained 
Milan" (mille-ans), a thousand years. 

The Sleeping Sentinel. 

The army of Italy, under General Bonaparte, having 
been engaged against the Austrians during a wliole 
day, at length terminated the battle, by gaining a 
complete victory, at the very moment when the 
declining sun threw a parting gleam upon the westera 
horizon. During the period of this conflict, and the 
two foregoing days, the troops had not tasted repose, 
and the complete flight of the enemy, at this particular 
juncture, was therefore the more fortunate, as the 
French were thus enabled to enjoy that repose during 
the nigfit, of which they most gladly took the advan- 
tage. 

Notwithstanding this harrassed state of the array, it 



236 BEAUTIES OP 

was necessary to establish outposts ; when a grena- 
dier, stationed upon this service, which precluded the 
idea of rest, being quite exhausted with fatigue, fell 
fast asleep at his post. 

Napoleon, who offered up his own repose as a sacri- 
fice to the more imperious calls of promptitude and 
glory, proceeded, alone, to visit the outskirts of tlie 
camp, and in this survey arrived at the spot where 
lay extended the sleeping sentinel, who could hardly 
be deemed guilty of a breach of duty, but the un- 
willing victim of extreme fatigue, that totally over- 
powered him. 

Bonaparte, unmindful of his dignity, and actuated 
only by noble motives, took up the soldier's musket, 
which lay beside him ; when, placing it upon his own 
shoulder, he continued to mount guard for nearly an 
hour, in order to insure the safety of the camp. The 
grenadier at length awoke, and sought for his piece 
in vain, but, by the light of the moon, perceived the 
general, who had thus paid respect to his repose. 

" Oh I I am undone !" vociferated the soldier, re- 
cognising Napoleon, whose lineaments were graven 
upon the heart of every soldier. 

" No, my friend," replied the general, with ex- 
treme affability, at the same time surrendering up hisf 
musket, " the battle was obstinate and long enough 
contested to excuse your having thus yielded to the 
impulse of fatigue ; one moment of inattention, how- 
ever, might endanger the safety of the camp; I was 



FRENCH HISTORY. 237 

awake, and have only to advise, that you would be 
more upon your guard for the future !" 

Le Petit Caporal. 

A singular custom was established in the army of 
Italy, in consequence of the youth of the commander, 
or from some other cause. After each battle, the 
oldest soldiers used to hold a council, and confer a 
new rank on their young general, who, when he 
made his appearance in the camp, was received by 
the veterans, and saluted with his new title. They 
made him a corporal at Lodi, and a serjeant at Cas« 
tiglione; and hence the surname of "Petit Caporal," 
which was for a long time applied to Napoleon by 
the soldiers. How subtle is the chain which unites 
the most trivial circumstances to the most important 
events ! Perhaps this very nickname contributed to 
his miraculous success on his return in 181-5. While 
he was haranguing the first battalion, which he found 
it necessary to address, a voice from the ranks ex- 
claimed, •' Vive notre petit Caporal ! we will never 
fight against him !" 

The Restorer of the City of Lyons. 

On Bonaparte's return from the second campaign 
of Italy, he passed through Lyons, on the ninth Mes- 
sidor, the eighth year of the republic. It was his 



S38 BEAUTIES OF 

wish to continue incognito, in order to escape the 
honours and the fetes intended for him ; but all his 
precautions were of no avail ; the report of his being 
ia the city spread itself in all directions, and the pop- 
ulace in crowds appeared in the streets, on the quays, 
in the promenades, and mounted on the house-tops, 
crying : " It is Bonaparte ! Long live Bonaparte !" 
these applauses being prolonged until night, with 
which were mingled the incessant discharges of artil- 
lery. 

During the nights of the ninth and tenth, a bronze 
medal was struck in haste and presented to the con- 
queror of Italy ; and on the morning of the last men- 
tioned day, he repaired to the Square of Bellecour, 
amidst an escort of upwards of iifty thousand Lyon- 
ese. Upon this occasion he laid the first .stone, and 
thus commenced the rebuilding of the city, which had 
been almost entirely demolished, by order of the co- 
median, Collot D'Herbois. Previous to the deposit- 
ing of the stone, he took it in his hand, smiling, and 
assured the inhabitants of Lyons, that this Square 
should very soon recover all its former splendour, 
and that the manufactories of Lyons, which were 
then reduced to four thousand workmen, should 
speedily be augmented to twenty-five thousand ; after 
which he deposited the medal, which was enclosed 
in a leaden case, beneath the foundation of the new 
structure ; the bronze in question bearing this inscrip- 
tion : 



FRENCH HISTORY. 239 

To Buonaparte 

The Restorer of Lyons j 

Verninac Prefect. 

In the name of the greatful Lyonese. 

On the other side appeared, encircled by a coronet 
of oak, 

Twice Victor at Marengo, 

Conqueror of Italy. 

He deposited this Stone 

The 10th Messidor, An. VIII. 

At the conclusion of the ceremony, Napoleon re- 
paired to the hotel of the Prefect, where a sumptuous 
breakfast was prepared. Pie proved as amiable at 
table, as he was terrible in the field ; and it was justly 
said of this repast : "That here was Alexander feasting 
with his friends, on the day when he founded Alex- 
andria." 

The Battle of Marengo. 

This conflict was undoubtedly that in which Bo- 
naparte displayed the most brilliant proofs of mili- 
tary, capacity; for on that momentous day, he mani- 
fested the consummate tactics of a great commander ; 
neither was there any deficiency of those traits of 
heroism which history always loves to record, and 
■which must descend to the remotest posterity. It 
was during this battle, which might be justly termed 
the modern Pharsalia, that Napoleon preserved, amidst 



240 BEAUTIES OF 

the tumultuous din of arms, and an army almost com- 
pletely routed, that coolness and certain dependance 
upon self, which were the fruit of long military ex- 
perience, and the characteristic of the truly brave. 

As soon as the divisions of Lemonier and Desaix 
had arrived, Bonaparte repaired to range them in order 
for battle ; but, as the enemy's forces were greatly 
superior in number to those of the French, the latter 
began to give way, and retreat, which, being perceived 
by Napoleon, he gallopped to the front of the ranks, 
exclaiming: — "Frenchmen! remember my custom is 
to sleep upon the field of battle." 

Berthier on arriving to acquaint him that his army 
began to be put to the rout, he made this answer : 
" You do not announce that, general, in cold blood !" 

During the hottest period of the action, news was 
brought to Bonaparte that Desaix was killed, when 
he only uttered these words : "Why is it not per- 
mitted me to weep ?" The deceased was among those 
generals whom he held in the highest estimation. 

After the battle, Bonaparte happening to meet a 
great number of the wounded, made the following 
remark in tones of the deepest affliction : " We-cannot 
but regret not being wounded like them, in order to 
participate in their sufferings." 

JSTapoJeon wounded in Italy and other places. 
It ha? been said that Bonaparte has never been 



FRENCH HISTORY. 241 

wounded. This is not the fact, for Mr. O'Meara 
says : — 

Napoleon showed me the marks of two wounds; 
one a very deep cicatrice above the left knee, which 
he said he had received in his first campaign of Italy, 
and was of so serious a nature, that the surgeons 
were in doubt whether it might not be ultimately 
necessary to amputate. He observed, that when he 
was wounded, it was always kept a secret, in order 
not to discourage the soldiers. The other was on 
the toe, and had been received at Echmiihl. "At the 
siege of Acre," continued he, " a shell thrown by 
Sidney Smith, fell at my feet. Two soldiers, who 
were close by, seized and closely embraced me, one 
in front, and one on the other side, and made a ram- 
part of their bodies for me, against the effect of the 
shell, which exploded, and overwhelmed us with sand. 
We sunk into the hole formed by its bursting; one 
of them was wounded. I made them both officers. 
One has since lost a leg at Moscow, and commanded 
at Vincehnes when 1 left Paris. When he was sum- 
moned by the Russians, he replied, that as soon as 
they sent him back the leg he had lost at Moscow, 
he would surrender the fortress. Many times in my 
life," continued he, " have I been saved by soldiers 
and officers throwing themselves before me when I 
was in the most iminent danger. At Areola, when I was 
advancing, Colonel Meuron, my aid-de-camp, threw 
himself before me, covered me with his body, and 
21 



242 BEAUTIES OF 

recfeived the wound which was destined for me. He 
fell at my feet, and his blood spouted up in my face. 
He gave his life to preserve mine. Never, yet, I 
believe, has there been such devotion shown by sol- 
diers as mine have manifested for me. In all my 
misfortunes never has the soldier, even when expiring, 
been wanting to me — never has man been served more 
faithfully by his troops. With the last drop of blood 
gushing out of their veins, they exclaimed 'Vive 
I'Empereur!'" 

His Generosity io iJie Veteran General Wurmser. 

For several days after the decisive actions, which 
left him without a shadow of hope of relief, Wurmser 
continued the defence of Mantua in a sullen yet hon- 
ourable despair, natural to the feelings of a gallant 
veteran, who, to the last, hesitated between the desire 
to resist, and the sense that resistance was absolutely 
hopeless. At length he sent his aid-de-camp, Klenau, 
to the head-quarters of Serrurier, who commanded 
the blockade, to treat of a surrender. Klenau used 
the customary language on such occasions. He ex- 
patiated on the means which Mantua still possessed 
of holding out, but said, that, as Wurmser doubted 
whether the place could be relieved in time, he would 
regulate his conduct as to the immediate submission, or 
farther defence, according to the conditions of surren- 
der to which the French general was willing to admit 



FRENCH HISTORY. 243 

him. A French officer of distinclion was present, 
muffled in his cloak, and remaining apart from the 
two officers, but within hearing of what had passed. 
When their discussion was finished, this unknown 
person stepped forward, and, taking a pen, wrote 
down the conditions of surrender to which Wurmser 
was to be admitted — conditions more honourable and 
favourable by far than what his extremity could have 
exacted. "These," said the unknown officer to 
Klenau, "are the terms which Wurmser may accept 
at present, and which will be equally tendered to him 
at any period when he finds farther resistance im- 
possible. We are aware he is too much a man of 
honour to give up the fortress and city, so long and 
honourably defended, while the means of resistance 
remained in his power. If he delay accepting the 
conditions for a week, or a month, or two months, 
they shall be equally his when he chooses to accept 
them. To-morrow I pass the Po, and march upon 
Rome." Klenau, perceiving that he spoke to the 
French commander-in-chief, frankly admitted that the 
garrison could not longer delay surrender, having 
scarce three day's provisions unconsumedL This 
trait of generosity towards a gallant but umbcUi- 
nate enemy, was highly honourable to Napoleon. 
But the young victor paid a still more delicate and 
noble minded compliment, in declining to be person- 
ally present when the veteran Wurmser had the mor- 
tification to surrender his sword, with his garrison 



244 BEAUTIES OF 

of twenty-thousand men. Such self-denial did Na- 
poleon as much credit nearly as his victory. Hb 
conduct towards Wurmser may be justly compared 
to that of the Black Prince to his royal prisoner, King 
John of France. 

Mount St. Bernard. 

The campaigns of Italy, under the Directory and 
Consulate, were well worth all the imperial battles 
fought in the days of France's splendid degradation. 
The pass of Mount St. Bernard stands unrivalled in 
modern military history. The cannons were dragged 
up the heights by sheer strength of arm, by efforts 
almost superhuman. Pecuniary motives for exertion, 
proffered by the general, were rejected by the army. 
The soldiers, one by oii-e, climbed through the cre- 
vices of the ice-rock, and in live hours they reached 
the convent of St. Peter. The descent was yet more 
perilous. The infantry cut short the diffiqulty by 
sliding on their backs down the ice. "The first 
consul followed their example, and, in the sight of 
his army, slided down a height of two hundred feet!" 

Bonaparte, before liis departure for this campaign, 
traced a flight sketch of his intended operations at a 
private house. In this plan, Millissimo is marked, in 
the confidence of success, as being the first site of the 
defeat of the enemy. " I shall drive," he says, " the 
Aiistrians from the passage of the Tyrol ;" and he 



FRENCH HISTORr. 245 

finishes the sketch with these words : " It is at the 
gates of Vienna, that 1 shall give you peace." Speak- 
ing afterwards of his treaty of Millissimo, he said, 
*' this was the strongest sensation of my life." 

His Employment of Time. 

During the voyage to Egypt, Bonaparte was con- 
tinually employed. His remarkable sayings to the 
pupils of a school which he had one day visited, 
" Young people, every hour of time lost, is a chance 
of misfortune for future life," may be considered as, 
in some measure, forming the rule of his own con- 
duct. Perhaps no man ever better understood the 
value of time : his very leisure was business. If the 
activity of his mind found not wherewithal to exercise 
itself in reality, he supplied the defect, by giving free 
scope to ms imagination, or in listening to the con- 
versation of the learned men attached to the expedi- 
tion ; for he probably, was the only man in the fleet 
who never experienced ennui for a single moment. 

His Proclamation before landing in Egypt. 

"Soldiers! — You are about to undertake a ccfn- 
quest, the eifects of which, upon the civilization and 
commerce of the world, are incalculable. You will 
strike a blow, the surest and most vital which England 
can receive, until you give her her death-stroke, 
21* 



"246 BEAUTIES OF 

We shall have to make some fatiguinor marches ; to 
en;^a»;e in a few combats ; but success will crown 
our exertions. Tlie destinies are favourable. The 
Mamelukes — retainers of England, tyrants of all the 
unfortunate country — soon after our landing shall 
have ceased to exist. 

'^ The people with whom we are about to be con- 
nected are Mahometans. The first article of their 
faith is this : — ' There is no other God but God, and 
Mahomet is his prophet.' Do not gainsay them; 
live with them as you have done with the Jews — 
with the Italians; pay the same deference to their 
mufiis and their imaums, as you have paid to the rab- 
bins and the bishops ; show to the ceremonies pre- 
scribed by the Koran, and to the mosques, the same 
tolerance as you have shown to the convents and the 
eynagogues — to the religion of Moses and of Jesus 
Christ. The Roman legions protect 111 religions. 
You will find here usages diffjrent from those of 
Europe : it is proper that you habituate yourselves to 
them. 

'' The inhabitants treat their womsn diffarently from 
us; but, in every country, he who violates is a mon- 
ster. Pillage enriches only a few; it dishonours us, 
destroys our resources, and renders enemies those 
whom our interest requires to be friends. The first 
city we approach was built by Alexander; every step 
will awaken sublime recolleciions, w^orthy of exciting 
Ihe emulation of Frenchmen." 



FRENCH HISTORY. 247 

To this proclamation was appended an order of 
the day, consisting of twelve articles, prohibiting pil- 
lage, as also every species of violence, and containing 
directions for collecting imposts and contributions. 
The punishments denounced upon delinquents were 
— repairing tl^ damages inflicted, two years in irons, 
and death. Here I may be permitted a reflection. 
Passages in this proclamation have been severely 
animadverted upon as contrary to the doctrines of 
Christianity. But how absurd, to have entered Egypt 
with the cross in one hand, and the sword in the 
other ! Policy and common sense required us to re- 
spect the religion of the inhabitants. Both this and 
other proclamations produced an excellent eflfect. 



Disemharkation of iJie French Troops in Egypt, 

On the arrival of the French fleet on the Egyptian 
coasts. Napoleon wished the troops to be landed im- 
mediately; but admiral Bruyes would not consent, 
being afraid of the sea, then agitated by a strong west 
wind; but the general felt the value of the moments 
which passed. He saw the expedition exposed on 
the coast, and Alexanthia in arms, preparing for a 
defence ; and he wished positively to land in spite of 
the violence of the waves. 

The fleet accordingly anchored; and during the 
evening and part of the night, the disembarkation 



248 BEAUTIES OF 

took place, a few leagues from Alexandria, near A 
place called the tower of Marabout. 

When Napoleon wished to execute the disembar- 
kation without loss of time, he said to admiral Bruyes, 
the moment he quitted the Orient : " We must exert 
ourselves to open the port of Alex^dria for you, 
with the least possible delay : and if it be not in a 
condition to receive the fleet, we must place you in 
safety elsewhere. You have conducted us success- 
fully ; your task is over, but ours only commences." 
" What ! rejoined the brave Bruyes, do you take us 
for common carriers, and our ships for baggage- 
wagons ?" 

JSTapoleoTi^s Jllarm on his arrival at Alexandria. 

On the arrival of the French expedition in the port 
of Alexandria, the resident consul was immediately 
sent for. To the great astonishment of his country- 
men, he informed them that the English fleet had made 
its appearance the preceding day before the port, had 
demanded information with respect to the French 
fleet, and had then continued its course towards Alex- 
andretta. At that very moment the signal for vessels 
of war was made, and the order of battle was given ; 
a firm belief being entertained that the English fleet 
was at hand. 

Napoleon at this instant gave expression to the 
uneasiness which he felt. " Fortune," he exclaimed, 



FRENCH HISTORY. 249 

" why hast thou favoured us so long to abandon us 
now, when former success only adds to the poignan- 
cy of our misfortune ? In a few moments Alexandria 
would have been ours, and the whole of the trans* 
ports would have been safe!" 

Happily for him the signals were false ; the vessels 
turned out to be the French frigates, which had fallen 
behind, and not the English fleet. 

Gaiety of the French Soldiery. 

Nothing could exceed the gaiety of the French sol- 
diery : if they saw a young conscript sad and dejected, 
he would soon be laughed and bantered out of his 
sadness. Denon relates, that when the French army, 
under Bonaparte, arrived off the coast of Egypt, and 
saw it stretching along the horizon, a perfect desert, 
— not a tree, nor a plant, nor any sign of a human 
habitation to be discovered as far as the eye could 
reach either way — far from being dispirited at this 
dreary prospect, one of the soldiers drew a comrade 
to the side of the vessel, and pointing to it, said, 
"Look ye! there are the six acres which have been 
decreed thee !" alluding to a promise of a grant of land 
to each soldier, on the expiration of his service in 
the army. 

In one of Bonaparte''s despatches, he thus emphat- 
ically expresses himself upon the subject : '' They 
play and they laugh with death ; they have now be- 
come completely accustomed to the enemy's cavalry, 



250 BEAUTIES OP 

which they hold in derision ; nothing can equal their 
intrepidity, unless it be the gaiety testified during their 
forced and harassing marches; for they sing by turns 
in honour of their country and their mistresses. 
When arrived at the bivouac, you would think, at 
least, that they would repose. Such, however, is not 
the case ; each tells his story, or forms his plan of 
operations for the morrow ; and it is frequently as- 
certained that many of them have made a just cal- 
culation." 

Turkish Humanity towards the French Army in 
Egypt. 

When Bonaparte sailed with his army for Egypt, 
a number of the most eminent of the French literati 
accompanied him, in order to make research into the 
antiquities, manners, customs, and literature of that 
famous country. These labours they executed with 
the most astonishing assiduity, even amidst all the 
dangers of vi^ar. But the Institute had remained at 
Cairo only a month, when their house was pillaged, 
in a general insurrection of the inhabitants ; firing was 
heard in different places, and many persons belonging 
to the Commission of Arts fell a sacrifice to the fury 
of the populace. After considerable slaughter, how- 
ever, it was quelled the second day, by means of some 
heavy artillery. "Through the populace," says 
Denon, " the devotees, and some of the great people 
of Cairo showed themselves fanatical and cruel in 



FRENCH HISTORY. 251 

this revolt, the middle class (which is in all countries 
the most accessible to reason and virtue) was per- 
fectly humane and generous to us, notwithstanding the 
wide difference of manners, religion, and language ; 
— whilst from the galleries of the minarets murder 
was devoutly preached up — whilst the streets were 
filled with death and carnage, all those in whose 
houses any Frenchmen were lodged, Avere eager to 
save them by concealment, and to supply and antici- 
pate all their wants. An elderly woman, in the 
quarter in which we lodged, gave us to understand, 
that, as our walls was but weak, if we were attacked^ 
we only had to throw it down, and seek for shelter 
in her harem : a neighbour, without being asked, sent 
us provisions at the expense of his own store, when 
no food was to be purchased in the town, and every 
thing announced approaching famine; he even re- 
moved every thing from before our house which 
could render it conspicuous to the enemy, and went to 
smoke at our door, as if it were his own in order to 
deceive any who might attack us. Two young per- 
sons, who were pursued in the streets, were snatched 
up by some unknown people, and carried into a house, 
and whilst they were furiously struggling for deliver- 
ance, expecting that they were destined for some hor- 
rible cruelty, the kind ravishers, not being able other- 
wise to convince them of the hospitable benevolence 
of their intentions delivered up to them their own 
children, as pledges of their sincerity. 



252 BEAUTIES OF, &C. 

*' If the grave mussulman represses those tokens 
of sensibility, which other nations would take a pride 
in exhibiting-, it is in order to preserve the dignified 
austerity of his character." 

His Return from Egypt 

When the news of his arrival reached Marseilles, 
the event was celebrated witli a general illumination, 
bonfires, and other demonstrations of joy. 

But an impulse of a very different nature seized the 
minds of the magistracy of Toulon. It was known 
there that the plague had made considerable ravages 
among the army in Egypt; and when the news cir- 
culated that Bonaparte had landed at Frejus, and pro- 
ceeded immediately to Paris, without the vessel or 
any of the crew having been subjected to the usual 
quarantine, couriers were sent after him with orders 
not to stop on tlie road upon any consideration till 
they had overtaken him, and to bring him and his 
companions back, that they might be put into quaran- 
tine. But Bonaparte had got so much the start of 
them, and pursued his journey with so much alacrity, 
that he arrived at Paris long before them ; and the 
memorable events, which crowded upon each other 
from the moment of his arrival, soon turned the 
public attention from all other objects to fix it on 
them alone. 

THE END. 



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